The first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep

Whenever people have those “ultimate dinner party” conversations, there are a few names you can guarantee will be tossed into the ring. Elvis and Einstein are popular picks, so are Marilyn Monroe and Mother Teresa.

They are all suitable options and, presumably, quite interesting guests. (Though I suspect Mother Teresa might change the vibe slightly, what with all the anecdotes about suffering.)

I’ve always maintained that Oscar Wilde would top my invite list. A true raconteur, famous for his wit and flair, not to mention two of the greatest literary works of all time, The Importance of Being Earnest and The Picture of Dorian Gray, Wilde ticks all the boxes. Sure, he might forget to bring a dish, but he would always bring the vibes.

For as long as I can remember, I have been someone who considers talking, worrying and most importantly, checking on the weather an important part of my daily ritual. Credit: Michael Howard

I like to assume we’d get along famously, but I know there is one subject that would inevitably lead to a butting of heads: the weather. You see, I am someone who finds it hard not to talk about the weather. In contrast, Wilde considered it a topic reserved for those with nothing more interesting to say, famously declaring: “Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.”

So I can only imagine how unimpressed he would be when I start discussing unseasonal rainfall or making jokes about the recent heat wave. “Seems Lady Windermere isn’t the only one who needs a fan! Ha!”

Obsessing over the weather has been an essential part of my daily ritual for as long as I can remember. If pushed, I would say this is directly linked to being born at the start of winter, a lifetime of birthday parties ruined by inclement weather. Every year, my mother would check the forecast, frown and then deliver the four words no child wants to hear: “Wet weather contingency plan.”

This perhaps explains why I am now unable to leave the house without cross-referencing at least three different weather apps. First thing in the morning, I’ll reach for my phone, desperate to know what the future holds (and if I’ll need a jacket).

Out of habit, I typically begin with a cursory glance at the Apple Weather app. This is notoriously the worst weather app. Whoever is responsible for its modelling is also responsible for my severe trust issues. Consistent only in its inaccuracy, not a day goes by when Apple’s forecast is even close to what’s happening in the real world.

The only upside is that it reminds me of all the different places I’ve travelled. Oh, look, it’s mostly sunny in Chicago but mostly cloudy in Tokyo – neat!

Next up is a consultation with the Bureau of Meteorology app. With its fancy rain radar and almost pathological warnings to sheep graziers (someone really should check on them), the BOM is a source of comfort for serious weather-heads. How else will we know if there’s a 25 per cent chance of heavy rain in the early evening? Or a moderate chance of northeasterly winds (20 to 30 km/h) in the early afternoon? Will they ease later at night? Let’s find out!

Finally, I will swing by Rain Parrot, Willy Weather, and Carrot to make sure all my apps are on the same page. Having compared the data, I am now appropriately layered and ready to face the day, but I am far from finished my obsessive checking.

Around lunchtime, I will log back on to BOM to prepare for the journey home. Should all signs indicate possible precipitation, I will rush to the window for confirmation. “Looks like rain,” I’ll say, often to no one in particular.

Is this level of app dependency unhealthy? Possibly. Am I beyond help? Definitely.

Ultimately, this is all about control. In a world increasingly defined by uncertainty, knowing the likelihood of anything offers a welcome comfort.

This makes sense, but what makes less sense is that I also operate under the misguided belief that if I continue monitoring the weather, I can somehow manipulate it. Thunderstorm forecast for this year’s big birthday bash? Let’s see if we can’t change that through sheer force of will (and refreshing the BOM app like a maniac).

Eventually, I plan to pry myself away from the weather apps’ clutches. I like the idea of a future where the last thing I do at night is, I don’t know, kiss my wife or read a book rather than check what tomorrow’s UV index might be.

Because at the end of the day, whether the weather be fine, or whether the weather be not, whether the weather be cold, or whether the weather be hot, we’ll weather the weather, whatever the weather, whether we like it or not.

Or, as my friend Oscar told me over dinner after he was delayed by the rain: “To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect.”

Find more of the author’s work here. Email him at [e-mail] or follow him on Instagram at @thomasalexandermitchell and on Twitter @_thmitchell.

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