And, worst, for the first and second exams (held concurrently), we were required to sit in a direly underheated room.

I'm going to draft a complaint to the ombudsman. Not so much for myself - I know my results this year won't even be close to passing, even without the added stress of a room that seriously resembled a refrigerator. But if someone else who was in that position also makes a complaint, this will at least provide supportive testimony.

However, I'm going to first check the regulations of the university, just after I've found the courage to scan that much tiny type. At least I've managed to thaw a bit - poor Mr Sweetie! I came straight to the living room (well, he did offer and I took an intervening cuddle), lay down on the sofa and started to order him to first put on a near-by throw, and then to trek upstairs and pull the duvet off our bed. I think it was two hours before I felt even the barest notion of budging out from out of that nest.

(And, as luck would have it, he's out for dinner with mutual friends tonight. Not that I was in any fit state, but still, we're sorry for the timing of it all.)