I’ve experienced Australia’s winter. I’ve also experience Fargo‘s winter, a town made (in)famous by the film of the same name. But nothing’s greyer and sadder than London’s cold months. Primarily because most of the infrastructure (read: houses and buildings) here are not equipped with modern mod-cons. There are some houses with no central heating. Most of the houses and offices have no air-conditioning. And those who do have them, chances are the A/C can’t be tweaked to the right temp so people tend to “fight” over it.

My current workplace is undergoing refurbishment and we lost heating for almost a week. One of the contractors, who were showing early signs of flu weeks before, called yesterday to say he’s got pneumonia. My back is aching and my hands are stiff. Most of the people are wearing their coats and hats in the office! But it’s okay, no one seemed to really mind. Everyone still turn up for work afterall.

Then Monday 4am, I woke up ala-Sixth Sense. You know? With smoke billowing from my breath? pogiBoy was huddled between hubby and I under the duvet, and surprise! he’s not sweating. I touch hubby’s head and his hair was cold. Our boiler broke down!

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