I've tried everything. "Tampering" with my 1,000-year-old radiator in an attempt to find the balance between knocking, hissing and spouting the world's hottest air, buying a stylish humidifier on Gilt and naming it Smellvin because it helps me smell when it's too dry to smell, staying up late to make Swedish meatballs, everything. Or maybe those are just New York winter problems; I don't get out of town a lot. Regardless, March can take its lions and lambs and start whatever kind of effed-up zoo it wants. I'm going to load up on comfort food and hole up until the trees bust open.
Might I suggest:
- Tartiflette, because winter
- Jalapeño vodka and, eventually, macaroni and cheese
- Late-night meatballs
- French onion soup
- Summer rolls, because winter
And occasionally valium-ing your mean old lady cat so you can reap her cuddly warmth without running the risk of claws to the face. Or else why did the vet even give me those? Were they really for me? Is that what that weird smile was?
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