February. The armpit of months. The dirty sweat sock at the bottom of the laundry hamper that has been forgotten for months. The feel of cold rain seeping into your shoe. I don’t like February. By the time it comes around it has been oppressively cold for months and you just can’t take it anymore even though you know within a month or so it should start warming up but not yet. No, you are still just cold down to your bones. And miserable. And it is still getting dark so early that you feel that there really isn’t a purpose to anything and you want to stay in bed all day.