Almost daybreak. I'm sort of drowsy, in a warm bed, and very unwilling to brave the chilly temperatures of the bedroom even with the heating on. So I dozed for a bit longer. Plenty of time.

Not any more. Almost 9;30, and if I leave it too late, there'll be a two hour wait to grab a computer at the library. My life is full of these little problems. Quick! Out of bed - Cold! - and take a peak out of the window to confirm the weather conditions I'll have to cope with this morning.

Oh no! This can't be happening! The yard out back is sort of covered in white powdery stuff. Yes, there's no mistake, snow has fallen overnight. How do we cope with snow? I sort of vaguely remember what happened last year but that's a distant fading memory and the trauma has blocked out that part of my nightmarish recollections of winter. Oh hang on, I've got an SAS survival manual somewhere in the house. Maybe that'll help?

No, it doesn't. The volume contains all sorts of handy hints about eating jungle vegetation, stying warm, and avoiding enemy patrols, but nothing about coping with winter in Swindon. What sort of survival manual is this? Unless I plan to eat weeds by the fence out back for lunch, drag a duvet with mwe to the library, and stay well clear of traffic wardens, I have no choice but to challenge the conditions alone and unaided.

As it happens, the snow has so far been very light, a mere dusting of the stuff, and I successfully avoided marauding polar bears and moslem insurgents to reach th library. Certainly is warm in here.

Sleepy

As I sit here typing this stuff out, there's a guy in the next cubicle chewing gum. Now he's not being noisy or deliberately annoying, but his robotic movement of the lower jaw is having a hypnotic effect on me. Good grief. Who knows what someone could do to me if I was hypnotised. I'm feeling sleepy.... Deep sleepy... I knew I should have dragged that duvet with me. Never sneer at an SAS survival manual.