dear internet,

i love february: the year's tuesday, its 2.30pm, an entire month like the empty week between christmas and new year's. i like the feeling of a stretch of time that we collectively agree holds no weight of expectation. i have lived this january like it was a february: cheerfully abandoning books a couple chapters in, buying unready tulips, watching the canal near the english department grow glazed with cold and then melt back to normal. i watched seven movies (my favourites were petite maman, the worst person in the world, tár, and fire of love) and listened to honey by samia quite literally one hundred times and don't remember a single book i read, although i read at least six. tomorrow, as much as i try to resist or pretend otherwise, will feel new. 

love,
t