Cough cough cough cough cough.
I hate the cold. I react overly violently to it, and the simplest little sniffle requires two days in bed.
But it IS the 29th of February, a fantastic date in my opinion, and so it’s not too bad really.
Also, in my book, spring starts tomorrow. My head says: Dec-Feb = winter, Mar-May = spring, and so on. This is both easy to remember and makes some semblance of sense. Even if it means the seasons aren’t precisely the same length. I mean, I’m hoping it’s not rocket science.
I’m going to go cough some more.