Brutal
The walk from the parking garage to the front of the building I work in is, when the atmosphere is in a hurry and the temperature is frigid, a very brutal place to be. The buildings lining the street, more or less, make it a big wind tunnel that allows nature to funnel it's fury down at us meager, scurrying mortals and it was in rare form this morning. Egad it was nasty, blasts of cold air and the sting of little sleet/rain drops on the face. I tell you truly that I was a very sub-comfortable boy.
Now is the time for coffee. Though I would accept the warm cuddles of a good woman...or, hell, a bad woman. 