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<title>January | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
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<h1 class="title">January</h1>
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<p>January.<br />It’s cold, and I don’t like it.<br />I prefer warm weather,<br />although I like sweaters. They are the one<br />warm spot in an otherwise <a href="tapestry.html">shitty</a> season.<br />But fall is better sweater weather. So be patient,</p>
<p><em>patient</em>,<br />while waiting for the end of January.<br />A change of season<br />brings a change of mood along with it,<br />although I never thought I’d be one<br />to believe that <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">SAD</a> junk about effects of weather—</p>
<p>weather!—<br />on a person. Who becomes a patient<br />just because of one<br /><a href="snow.html">month of snow</a>? I did say of January:<br />“It’s cold, and I don’t like it,”<br />but I hardly think it’s fair, knocking whole seasons,</p>
<p>seasoning<br />your conversation with demands for better weather.<br />(While I find it<br />nearly impossible, it’s my mission to be patient<br />while waiting for the end of January.)<br />Oh, but how the long nights do so <a href="http://www.irs.gov/">tax</a> one!</p>
<p>One<br /><a href="real-writer.html">warm spot</a> in an otherwise shitty season—<br />all I ask, January,<br />is one warm day. Do you care whether<br />I’m a person who becomes a patient<br />in some psych ward? This just about does it.</p>
<p>I.T.,<br />although I never thought I’d call one,<br />is fair and patient<br />when I call. They talk with me, season<br />my conversation of demands for better weather<br />with an argument for the white beauty of January.</p>
<p>They know it’s hard; they say each season<br />has its detractors. <em>One day</em>, they say, <em>the weather<br />will be controlled—until then, patience in January</em>.</p>
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