Abandoned in Polar Suburbia

Porridge eaten, and a cup of tea still to drink. Just about ready to work, and decide what album I'm listening to on the walk to the call centre. Not that I really enjoy listening to albums on the way to work because I can never decide what to play, time is at a premium, and I won't be able to listen to any more albums until lunchtime, and not properly till work finishes.
This is of course so stressful that I end up flicking through albums on my i-pod and not really listening to anything.

The days may be getting longer, but the nights seem to be getting deeper somehow. Last night, after the heating was turned off and I had retired to my room where, over a last cup of tea, I lamented the speedy nature of the weekend, it felt like I was somewhere quite different from a suburban street in Hove. No light pressed against my curtains (I look onto the backs of shops and a locked dead-end passage that runs between this building and the coffee shop) and there was, as usual, no sound. The freezing air made it seem as if my room was some kind of capsule in some remote Polar outpost and I had been abandoned in isolation for months.

This morning does not feel much better. Well, I say 'not better' but, really, I am quite appreciative of winters more dreary elements. The sky was that clogged shade of blue / grey that accompanies January dawns, and the air is suffused with a rather alarming lack of temperature. Even the shower didn't seem to warm me much.