Brass monkey weather

It’s fuh-fuh-fuh-king+ cold at the moment. Yes, yes, I know it’s winter and this is to be expected and it’s not nearly as bad as the frozen tundra of Canada and blah blah blah, but that knowledge does little to warm my toes, does it? Exactly.

Of course, it wouldn’t be nearly as severe if I left my scooter at home and took the car to work, but since the trip takes three to four times longer by car, it’s quite a tough choice to make. If this was an “apples versus apples scenario”++, it would simply be a matter of choosing the least painful option. However, having (temporarily) shrunken man-bits doesn’t stack up all that easily against frustration-induced blood clots in the brain. It’s sort of like asking whether you’d prefer to eat horse manure or watch Graeme Smith being interviewed on television. Both are unpleasant – but for completely different reasons.

I must admit, though, that I derive a certain masochistic pleasure out of appearing to be so much tougher than my weedy colleagues (who soil themselves at the prospect of having to walk though a puddle in the parking area), so I usually end up taking the scooter.

In any case, there’s always a ready supply of hot air to warm me up. Those meetings aren’t going to attend themselves now, are they?

+ To borrow a choice phrase from the object of my desire

++ As my boss is so very fond of saying. Man, I just can’t get enough of hearing that stupid expression