Sometimes, after pulling your­self out of bed instead of call­ing in late because there’s too much to do, when the walk to work is through ankle-deep snow which is com­ing down in sheets, you give up on avoid­ing the pud­dles because your socks are already soaked through after five min­utes, you can bare­ly keep your eyes open from the pre­cip­i­ta­tion and the exhaus­tion, the cold is giv­ing you a split­ting headache, and the only thing keep­ing you sto­ic is to con­cen­trate on the music in your ears but your iPod runs out of bat­ter­ies and this is the start of your week, you have no oth­er choice but to laugh.