The January blues are rampant this year, perhaps because the shit weather is so widespread across the continent. We are a grumpy disengaged collective of miserable people. There is little solace in that, but there is camaraderie in the uniformity of blank stares, dead eyes being the new secret handshake.
I've never been fond of winter, but neither have I been so sick of it so early in the season. Maybe when this latest deep freeze loosens its stranglehold upon the city and upon my psyche, I will be able to throw off these thousand pound shackles from my feet.
It's hard to dance when you are chained to the floor.