February has been a bust. Nothing seems to lend itself to writing about here. Nothing seems to lend itself to writing anywhere, nevermind reading. I've watched bad TV. My life has become a loop of coughing and making tea. I've had a cold so bad I quit drinking coffee. I expect these sentences to lay something bare that they don't. I wanted to read something funny, so I got two British novels from the library and I read them through one after the other and they weren't funny at all. Things aren't what they're supposed to be.