Baby It's Cold Inside

Stoking a fire isn't an option. Crummy Monday just got suckier when the building heater broke down. Of course, the working people gotta have some air so the next best option was we got a summer A/C treat that should have been used for those hot months (like when we needed it, it breaks down again, you can't win can you). My recovery from flu was put on hold, and it might sound exaggerated but it's colder inside than the wet freezing weather outside -- where to go, where to go? Today, the workers fancied being close to a small heating machine like homeless peeps warming up to a nice fire from a steel garbage can.

I'm not a modest complainer when it comes to room temperature, especially when weather sensitive co-workers are involved. Actually, it's my job to call Mr. Building Manager in a zip at the slightest temperature change but I'm usually at the losing end here. He's got a nifty temperature gun which he uses to get the thermostat of the room. Not only that he explains about the fluctuation in the thermostat and why some rooms gave out inaccurate readings, like the thermo is near a copier or a printer. After that he turns trigger happy all around the place, shooting out lasers everywhere and showing me the results, 65 degrees here 71 there 85 here etc. Here's why I cannot always win - one, he assumed that other floors will complain and that the majority should come first; two, I will never always be right to measuring up the temp against his trusty laser pointing gun; three, I'm near the window, thus, prone to being cold which is a given; lastly, when I complain the next time, he would ramble again with his fluctuations and his gun and shooting lasers all over the place like a muddled tv home improvement rerun. Sometime after our nth complaint he already earned a nickname in our office (I'll give you a chance to be creative here).