Battling the Frigid Fiend

I try not to think of the pain--
the short sharp jabs
in my feet
my knees
my shoulders
my back
and I can't even speak of my hands.

As I sit cold,
all but numb
at this desk typing
and filing
and longing to be out
in the sunshine and warmth,
my endeavors to ignore the imp
who pricks me with his nasty pick
are thwarted by the little bastard--
laughing
as he mercilessly
crushes
my
knuckles.


I really do need to find a way to keep warm at work...