About a week ago I was talking with a friend in New York and gloating a little bit because it was close to 40 C there with intense humidity. I didn't genuflect that day to the gods in charge of punishing the smug (deities which figure prominently in my personal cosmology), because a couple days later it got really cold, the coldest so far in the village. This morning there was a layer of ice on my water bucket.
It's not really that cold by previous standards--when I lived in Utah I can remember it getting to -40 a few times. (Bonus points if you can tell me why the scale doesn't matter.) The thing that gets me is that you can't escape. It's colder in my shack than outside during the day. The sleeping bag my folks sent me a couple months bag has been a godsend; I sleep in it every night and spend much of the day sitting around in it. About the only way to get and stay warm.
Another issue is my computer. Below a certain temperature it trips the fan to maximum speed and slows the processor way down--the same as for extreme heat. Of course, the fan only makes it colder, so before I start it up I have to bring it in the sleeping bag for a few minutes. (No better cure for loneliness.)
I still prefer this to the heat though.