Tony and me are looking forward to summer, when, as Tony says, "the days are hot and long, and the lager is cold and welcoming."
Also, this year, summer is going to be extra special for us two, because we're going to spend a few days at the seaside, to get some decent air into our lungs, and forget about our problems back here in London.
Sid, the landlord of our favourite pub, is organising another weekend away on the coast, and if last year's trip is anything to go by, this year's outing is sure to be something special.
Of course, some people think that unemployed people like us have no right whatsoever to go on holiday, but as Tony rightly says, everybody is entitled to a break every now and then. And what's more, we are contributing to the cost of the weekend, with everybody else who'll be joining us.
July seems like years away, but as I write, Tony is next door going through his collection of t-shirts, to see if he still fits into any of them.
The boy is well and truly excited about the trip, and says that a bit of sea air, fights with complete and utter strangers and then going on the rampage through the town centre are the sort of things that make a holiday a holiday to remember. Also, this year, our mate Glen will be joining us, so mindless violence and heavy drinking will certainly be on the menu.
We're now off to the pub to get ourselves into the holiday mood.