How 'bout that weather?

It is indeed a cold day in hell. The outside temperature plummets to a brisk 10 degrees, there are reports of snow in the hinterland and sleet only a few kilometres to the south.

Naturally this is the day someone decides that the lock on The Shed's door needs to be replaced with a card-reader, but no-one organises with Security to have it keyed to our cards. So we can't close the door, because then no-one can open it again.

And we sit in our uninsulated, corrugated metal shed with the wind howling in off the river, and watch our breath steam in the air while we lose feelings in our fingertips.