Watery Light of Winter

I walked the dog this morning and I'm trying to work from home. The light struggling through my large windows can only be described as watery, like a Kate Chopin novel. It makes me melancholy. It's a missing, melancholy day.

When the light has no color and seems to barely be performing its function, I become very sad. I start to think of all the people I'd like to be with that I am not, and I think What a waste.

Incidentally, Garrison Keillor and the nostalgic style of PHC aren't helping either.

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