I've calmed myself with a devious plan to make a zillion dollars with my new invention, dreamed up on the way into the office as my left hand froze into a tiny excruciating pink spider of ice. Why only my left, you ask? The right was cosily ensconced inside my lambskin glove. The left, however, was master of the iPod clickwheel, which, sensitive creature that it is, speaks not to the suede finish of the glove but only to the tender ministrations of the bare fingertip. (Yes. But don't go there).
So this evening I will be working on the patent application for my thermal glove with iPod-sensitive pad in the thumbtip. Frozen-fingered music lovers! Reclaim the shuffle!