I prevented hot flashes at work by freezing my coworkers

After last week's bone-chilling Arctic frost, we're now ready for weather to rival those of the Riviera. So do we turn down the heating? On or off?

While forecasts of unseasonably balmy days this week may come as a welcome relief to some of us, there's nothing like a fluctuating temperature gauge to cause arguments over optimal comfort levels.

And while this can be a perennial source of conflict between couples at home, in my experience nothing can get as heated as an argument about the temperature at work.

And now it's official.

The government is encouraging employers to sign the Menopause Workplace Pledge and pledges to help menopausal colleagues where possible – including recommendations for cooler office temperatures.

The Labor Party – keen to safeguard the hot flashes – has gone a step further and is proposing paid menopause leave and temperature-controlled 'cool zones' at work.

But while the thought of leading a bunch of middle-aged women to a designated corner of the office – near the refrigerator perhaps? – may sound a bit unhinged at first, but I actually think they're on to something.

Because there was once a time when I was quite the office hottie.

Unfortunately not in the sense that everyone was fascinated by my stunning beauty and killer figure. No, in my case it was more literal.

When I was in the throes of menopause, the combination of out-of-control hot flashes and the oppressive central heating in the office made me feel like a chicken at a barbecue.

As surprised as I am that I'm siding with the snowflakes, if we had had such cool zones when I made the change, I wouldn't have been driven to the sneaky act of sabotage that I did – and my colleagues speak to it still remains today.

My commute to work was unbearable. During winter, London's Tube carriages are heated to sauna-like levels, but often too crowded for you to be able to take off and wear a coat.

Nothing can get as heated as an argument about the temperature at work (file photo)

I arrived at my desk a damp, frizzy, dried out mess. And the huge open office offered no respite for a woman who had not yet succumbed to HRT. We sat at large communal desks next to windows that wouldn't open as heat was pumped out from the vents.

The majority of staff were completely happy with the temperature, a few complained that it was too cold (there's always one, right?). But I found it unbearable.

Despite stripping down to a T-shirt and having an electric fan on my terminal, it was suffocating and I couldn't concentrate on my work.

The temperature was centrally controlled in a boiler room deep in the building. Every now and then a guy in overalls would appear, wave a thermometer and disappear.

After cornering him (the poor guy was probably terrified of the angry, red-faced madman who accosted him with a lift), I discovered that it was possible to change the temperature in individual sections, via a wall thermostat that was hidden in a dark corner. . Ah!

The next evening, while working late, I saw that the thermostat was set to 23C (73F). What were we? Lizards? I didn't have that.

I lowered the temperature to a more acceptable 20 degrees Celsius. But would that be cool enough in a room with many bodies and no natural ventilation? Best make it 17C (63F). That was clothesline dry weather again. This internal negotiation took several minutes until I got to 14C (15F). Job done.

The next morning I was greeted by colleagues dressed in coats and wool hats.

“The heating is broken,” someone said to me somberly.

“Oh dear,” I replied. Maintenance men were called in, climbed ladders and examined the vents, but – to my relief – did not look at the wall thermostat.

Finally, at ease for the first time in months, I turned off my desk fan and enjoyed the blissful coolness.

It is very easy to become warmer when you feel the cold; you just put on more layers. It's a different story when you're busy (file image)

Over the next few days, colleagues showed up in thermal vests and fingerless gloves while I rolled my eyes. What a bunch of drama queens.

When a whole team of engineers showed up with stepladders, I quietly turned the heat back up and turned it down again once they were gone.

My evil ruse lasted several weeks, until an annoying engineer punched me against the thermostat and declared, “Someone set this to 14 degrees Celsius!”

Got caught. I confessed that I had heard a cry of indignation. But I didn't regret it.

My reasoning is that it is very easy to become warmer when you feel the cold; you just put on more layers. It's a different story when you're hot and bothered. Other than jumping naked into the fountain in the foyer (which I suspect is frowned upon by management), there was nothing I could do.

From tea guzzlers, throat clearers and pen stealers, there will always be annoying colleagues and their habits to deal with.

But at least as “cool zones” emerge, office hotties like me will no longer be driven to traitor-level subterfuge.