It's February. If a month of the year could be my nemesis, this would be it. Every year I swear that I will leave the country in February and not come back until it's over because nobody really needs to see what February reduces me to. It leaves every year with me a sobbing and quivering mess of anxiety and depression. This year I spent the first eight days of February making rainbow mobiles off of Pinterest in hopes that sewing countless bands of bright paper together would counteract the fact that I hadn't seen sun in way too long.