Feels a little bit like living in a cave. Trying to do important things, but end up mostly knitting and listening to the radio. Seems like the only sensible thing to do. I feel that mental point coming closer, the one where I think it's going to be like this forever, that spring is just an illusion, that I can't imagine the trees having leaves again or flowers bursting out of the ground.
I'll close my eyes, knock me on the head with something hard and wake me up in late March.
It's a good thing I have a couple of monkeys to take care of on days like these.
And tomorrow, I might just love winter again.