The Iceman Cometh

I'm bitter.

The rest of the free world is either on the beach or driving to the beach (or like Kelly Mehrtens got a new job at the beach), and I'm sitting in my office, working away, with sweaty pits because my employer has chosen to fire up the AC unit to "permafrost." The near-fetal-position I've assumed has caused little pockets of heat to amass around my innards.

A thunderstorm or tornado could break out inside my office at any moment.

I tried to warn you yesterday there was nothing of consequence today. You didn't listen.

Enjoy your weekend, and I will do same.