I’m deeply uneasy about the fact that it’s already the end of February.

Like, holy crap.

Welp.

I feel like we’re reaching the state of…winter? Pandemic? Pandemic winter?

Where all the days kind of blur together and I have trouble separating them out, or feeling like I am doing anything particularly meaningful with my days.

Anyway, books!

You know what’s hard?

Writing.

You know what’s less hard?

Reading some really excellent books!

Whoa, it’s February. Somehow. Shit.