It is officially January in New York, which begins the season of hopelessly longing to one day expose my bare skin directly to the sunlight yet again. The other day, my friend told me he had made a poster that he hangs up on his wall every winter that simply says, “It’s not you, It’s February.”
It’s funny, because it’s true. You Northerners totally know what I’m talking about. You kind of lose a bit of yourself during the winter months, like your body goes on energy saver mode, balking at the copious layers you impose on it.
Coming from Austin, I’ve often wondered why people deliberately choose to live here. The cold is cruel and unrelenting and there is a noted sense of depressed emotion, ennui and general tendencies toward hibernation. I myself have clocked four 11-hour-sleep nights in the past week. And yes it’s delicious and yes I celebrate it and honor the cycles and all that, but this year, something brilliant happened.Read more