It's fucking snowing!!!
Pleeeeease let me get back to England tomorrow. I don't care if I get stuck in London, just please let me get home. Even if I find myself clinging onto the edge of the white cliffs of Dover, I'll be happy, as long as it's England.
The snow is laughing in my face, falling really slowly and steadily as if to say 'What's the rush? I've got all night to ruin your Christmas.'