My office shed has become a sweltering torture cube – it’s like sitting in a toaster oven
I did not greet the looming end of Covid restrictions with any real enthusiasm, because I knew it would change nothing for me. I would just carry on working from my office shed as always. Except for now: this is the brief period of the year (no more than a handful of days, probably not in a row) when my office shed becomes a sweltering torture cube.
Even with the windows open and blinds down, it’s like sitting inside a toaster oven. I walk out to it in the mornings with all the enthusiasm of Paul Newman climbing into the Box in Cool Hand Luke. By midday, the air is sauna-like, the floor too hot for bare feet.
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