My office (actually, it is two rows of four computers that I share with five of my peers) is cold. Chilly. Frigid. Icy. Air conditioned in January. Winter weather indoors, I might as well stand outside in my underwear it is so cold in there. My fingers are turning blue… Call me the abominable snowman.
When I was 19, I worked at Albertsons for a while, throwing freight and stocking shelves. About half of my shift was spent in the dairy cooler, stacking milk crates, and making sure the store had a full supply of all things that came from the udder of a cow. My “office” feels like that dairy cooler in the back of the Marysville Albertsons.
I love my job, but honestly, if I wanted to feel this cold at work, I would have picked a different profession.