The grips of winter.

Oh. Fuck. It's. COLD. Seriously, last night walking back from Circus Oz to the taxi rank, we crunched across frosty grass and walked silently, each too cold to talk, listening to the sound of our teeth chattering.

What's happened? It's like bloody Siberia outside. Waiting for some friends outside the appointed restaurant we'd chosen for lunch, the boyfriend and I were forced to walk up and down the street in a bid to keep warm. We even went into the local library in an effort to ward off hypothermia, and this was mid-afternoonish. I dread going outside, as I have to shortly. I've taken every effort to layer up- fur lined booted, long johns, jeans, long top, hoodie and extreme polar jacket, as well as a scarf, hat and gloves.

I bet I get frostbite on my nose.