LIKE most people I’ve always assumed that living somewhere hot and sunny, like say LA or Miami, would make me a better person.

We’re all more laid-back and relaxed when the sun shines, aren't we? More confident with a tan, more sociable when the nights are long.

I can imagine myself cruising along in my Cadillac with the top down, sunglasses on, amd the music blaring. How could you be in a bad mood if that was your daily commute to work?

No longer would it be an effort to summon up the energy to exercise — you could just go for a rollerblade along the beach or play volleyball in the sand.

It must be something to do with all that vitamin D, I always reasoned, and if we got it all year round, surely we’d be in a holiday mood every day.

This belief was only reinforced by the last two miserable wash-out summers when barbecues and garden parties were abandoned in favour of sitting indoors watching torrential rain pour down. If only the sun would shine, everything would be all right.

But lo and behold, this week's heatwave has taught me a valuable lesson — it turns out we’re all just a bunch of moaners whatever the weather. The sun comes out and so does our crabbiness, I have discovered.

I’m not having a go — I'm just as guilty of this as anyone.

When the temperatures soared to 27 degrees, so did my temper. Stuck in a hot and sweaty office next to an open window that inexplicably made it feel even hotter, I cracked.

“It's too hot, I can’t BREATHE!”

Walking through town with sweat gathering on the back of my neck and behind my knees, I wilted into an exhausted mental slump, unable to string together a sentence through heat exhaustion.

I always assumed that if it was sunny nothing else mattered, but it turns out that’s not true.

And summer has more than its fair share of hazards, aside from the discomfort of overbearing heat and humidity.

Take the men for instance.

Now fellas, I know you like to get a tan. I know it’s hot and it feels nice to strip off the layers. But topless? With that body? In the middle of the High Street?

For some reason the sunshine seems to make men blind to their body faults. They believe us women love nothing more than seeing a hairy, flabby torso, complete with man-boobs, wobbling down the street. Of course, they're wrong.

Than there’s the midges, which are especially bad this year, so we’re told. I swear one flew into my ear the other day and I’ve yet to retrieve it.

And for anybody with sensitive skin there’s the prickly heat rash — and the sunburn.

Oh and the sleepless nights and the weird dreams because it's too hot . . . it’s almost enough to make you wish for rain isn’t it?

But not quite.