this is what you do when the days start blurring together

In the process of writing this, I've eaten half (okay, maybe more like three-quarters) a bar of espresso bean chocolate and have given up on wearing pants. Clearly the cold has started to get to me.

If I had a uniform these days, it'd be something like this: sweater tights and a loose cotton dress and a sweater or two on top of the dress and thick socks and a big scarf. Plain, pure comfort. Yesterday, I wore a pair of jeans for the first time in a few days and wow that was a rude awakening. I'm sticking to my tights from here on out, thanks.

Maybe I should do something about the lack of color in my closet, but you know what they say, black boosts self-confidence, and it's true.

(these were obviously taken pre-snow)

So. February. It's been bleak: colder than normal, and snowier too, and no one knows quite how to do deal with it. I've just decided I'm going to go into hibernation. Here's a happy thing, though: the day is approximately an hour longer than it was two months ago! Besides, February is a short month, and after that comes March, and then it's practically spring...!

But in the meantime, what do you do when the days and weeks start to blur in grayness together? You press on, I suppose. You try to make each day count, pour an extra cup of coffee when you need it, treat yourself to a chapter of a good book before bed. You pray and wonder about what the coming year will be like and dream of spring and take your pills like a good girl. And time passes, as it always does, until the blur of today is the blur of yesterday. "This too shall pass," you think, which is a good thing some days and saddening on others.

We're getting there.