It's around -14 (Celsius, for the information of my occassional stray American reader).
I was discontent with the mild winter and now there we are, it's damn cold as it should be in January.
My SAD is still acting up. There's still no snow to make the evenings at least semipleasant for walking home, it's unreasonably cold (I had to wrap my scarf around my head this morning lest my ears would fall off) and I'm stuck. Depression is physically debilitating to me first of all, I'm of bright mind, maybe grumpier than usual but that's beyond recognition to those who don't have finely tuned grump-o-meters or are just normal and don't bother to recognize. But, hell, I feel like lying like a piece of rag.
Which is the most likely reason why I gained weight. I'm at nice round 103 kilos and I'm totally pissed. I feel like curling up and waiting until spring. I feel like pulling some piece of clothing in size 40 and not eating until it fits excellently. I'm afraid that I'm going to do the latter no matter how rationally I can assess it as a rather idiotic thought because the human tendency to do things and think about the consequences when they arise, and if they arise at all, is present even in yours truly.
The gloomy mood caused by some family and work problems doesn't help either.
I wish very badly not to feel that bad but I just do. Le sigh.