The cold hand of death...

After we collectively popped the circuit yesterday by running all of our personal heaters at our cubes, and thusly angering the Building Overlords of Doom. Resistance was put up in the form of ignoring their thunderous decrees outlawing all use of any personal electrical life-support systems... Battles ensued; many lives were lost as entire floors fell victim to deep freeze. Corpses sat suspended in mid fax or clutched together around a flickering screen smiling over hilarious cat video on the YouTubes, waiting for the icy hand of death to overtake their forsaken souls… Some poor sap in Accounts Receivable stapled himself to the heat-duct in a vain attempt to absorb the meager warmth allotted to the office peasantry. But in the end, the working class was victorious. They lit their office chairs ablaze and danced a snakey and rather uncomfortable looking jig of defiance… There was to be capitulation… Order would be restored… Today is the first day since 1000 moons pass that I haven't obtained frostbite from merely sitting at my desk working. I gaze out the window now with thoughts of those fallen, and the days of yore when spring was at hand and girls on the street didn’t look like Glow-worms.