Snowy Day Three

You see, after a while, you start to go a l.i.t.t.l.e. bit crazy. There's something to be said for the daily slog into a populous office. Being stuck at home with Instant Messenger and two cats for company just isn't the same. Craving face-to-face interaction, I started a conversation with a complete stranger in the café opposite Brighton station at 7 o'clock this morning (no trains, so I had a fry-up instead, perfectly reasonable). Luckily he was a nice chap, and the snow seems to get people talking a bit more than, say, rain - or sleet - or hail - although I guess it depends on the size of hailstone - golf ball size would definitely get people talking - but not the stuff that looks like the 'beans' from beanbags - unless there was enough of it - and you ended up swimming in a sea of beanbag 'beans' - except it was hail - that'd get people talking...