Would you believe the weather here?

Yesterday, as I was walking across campus to get to class (or, more specifically, Chemistry finals. You can bet I was jumping along with joy to that), I began to ponder something. It's a saying that people have used before, merely as an exaggeration, but I was wondering whether there was some sort of truth in it. After all, it seemed to be happening to me. I clenched my gloved hands in my pockets and asked myself, "Can fingers really snap off from the cold?" It certainly seemed that way. And if my fingers were to go, then what about my toes, which were down there, treading through the snow? True, by walking through inches of snow, I ran the chance of soaking my boots; but then again, if I walked on the icy sidewalk, I ran the risk of slipping and cracking my skull open on the ground. I chose the lesser of two evils - I hope - and made tracks through the cold, white, cold, sparkling, cold, powdery snow (that was very cold).

My eyes watered from the stinging wind, and the tears that ran down my cheeks seemed to freeze onto my skin. Every time I wiped them away with a numb, gloved hand, more would come, as if they had been waiting for the pathway to be cleared so they could some streaming down.

I finally made it to the building, thawed myself out, hopefully didn't make a puddle, and then sat down to my finals, where we had problems such as, "Place the 18 following fictitious elements on the periodic table using the clues given to you. Clue #1: The compound AnTi is neutral." (It may interest some to note that this one problem made up 10% of the total score I could get on the final). I made it through the exam, rebundled myself, and went as quickly down the icy hill as I could.

Later that night, I found out that it had been -3˚ F outside.