Oh, what to do, what to do? The paralyzing month of February. Worse at the end of the month than it is at the beginning. Which tells you. Which tells you it gets worse as it gets shorter.
That's the line. That's the line sitting down and writing can give you: Which tells you it gets worse as it gets shorter. Not all of it, just this: it gets worse as it gets shorter. But only when applied to a month that can't end fast enough, where the longer that month goes on, the worse you feel (about it).
The line runs counter to optimism. There's no mention of "the bright side". The days are getting brighter longer, and with each passing day, fewer days remain. But each day as I am living it -- in the present, because that's what the happiest among us claim is the best way -- each day is a slog, and I go to sleep earlier every night to escape it.
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