All of these questions make sense in the context of February, the month where winter is no longer welcome and spring is nowhere close to being realized. It's a month of waiting, sometimes impatiently, for the promise of something a little... well, warmer.
Over the past few days, which were characterized by frigid temperatures, snow, slush, and snow days, I've tried to bring some warmth into my life. I've exercised to combat lethargy (and, of course, to offset the "eat my body weight in chocolate" trend.) I've even pampered myself: taking time to paint my nails, breaking out a rejuvenating sugar body scrub in the shower, going to bed at a reasonable hour.
The result? Just slight boosts in an otherwise continual feeling of meh.
But yesterday during a moment when I wasn't anticipating any warmth -- a moment when I was dragging my trash cans up the driveway -- I noticed a break in the clouds. Despite the ice, the grayness, and the salty slush splattered on the side of our minivan and my tired winter boots, it happened: the sun shined.
The sun shined! Knee deep in February, and sometimes, the sun still shines.