Some time ago, the thought that I might suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder came to mind. Looking back at the last few winters, the thought is more than reasonable. I gave the idea some more thought, and I realized that the four most depressing days of the year (Christmas, New Year, my birthday, and Valentine’s Day) are all clumped together during the core winter months. One miserable day after another…

I no longer think that I suffer from SAD. I always liked the winter anyway.

I have submitted a photo of my ugly reflection to the mirror project because I felt like it. Yes, I realize that there’s a stupid typo in the description. Fucking quite.

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