February

It's February.  Duck and cover.

I'll be in the corner in a blanket fort eating gummi bears with my fingers in my ears hollering "La, la, la, la, la, la, la!!!" at the top of my lungs until March, at least.

Today was bad.  Tomorrow will be worse.  By the end of the month, horrid will be the new happy.

Seriously, I haven't got any fucks to give.

Depression.  Whee.