There's been a cold spell of late here -- over the last three or four days. Given present difficulties, this has been determinative of much, but I appear to have been able to keep slogging though (albeit on impulse engines rather than warp speed), thanks to increased protein in meals and layers of clothing.
(Teetotal, of course. It's been some time since I've had sufficient hearth and economy for vino with dinner.)
There's a bit of an art to the "Like the Drifter" mode. You can't pull it off as James Bond, but the important thing is to retain the possibility of slogging through a tough bit and then shifting into James Bond mode for a few hours. The surprisingly large number of human catastrophes wandering the city counsel caution when dealing with these forces of nature. One doesn't want to turn into a national socialist or a socialist national, but the intensity common to the speculative idealist and the commissar is really the only way to get through this kind of thing. Life on the frontier wasn't characterized by American niceness and ease.
Gently down the stream -- take it easy, but take it.