As I write this entry, I am sitting like a blob of melted Silly Putty in a pair of really-need-to-be-washed sweatpants and a much-too-large-even-for-giants-like-me sweatshirt which I am wearing purely for comfort and laziness reasons.

These sweatpants.

I can’t seem to take them off.

I know I should take them off.

I know that if I take them off, toss them in the laundry basket, and put on actual grown-up pants, that I will feel much better and actually go do something with my day. And with my life.

But for some reason I don’t want to feel better. And these sweatpants make me feel somehow okay about that. Or at least somehow a little better.

Ugh. The winter blues.

Also known (by those who aren’t too lazy to get out of their sweatpants or call things what they really are) as “seasonal depression.”

When the sun goes away for many months each year, I get sad. I get despondent. I have a difficult time dwelling on anything positive at all. This happens to me every year.

Every. Single. Year.

God. I love the warm sunshine. Spring to fall I go about conquering the world each year. I skip along the lily pads of life, singing songs and dancing like an animatronic. The birds of the forest flock to me just to sing along. There is nothing I can’t do. Nothing I am too lazy to do. Nothing I am not capable of doing. Yes, from spring to fall, I conquer the world. I love all people and all amazingness in the world. And life is good.

Then, about the time I first have to hold my frozen fingers to a not-yet-warm heating vent in my car because they froze as I scraped my car of ice for the first time… Yes, about that time…

And about the same time that the clocks change and six o’ clock is suddenly darker than a dictator’s soul…

And about the same time that even the sun shining on a clear day brings no warmth to my skin…

And about the same time that the world loses its color faster than a fat kid who has just been depantsed at recess (hey, I can say that because that was me, many times)…

Yes, about that time each year…

I pull on my pair of sweatpants.

I don’t take them off.

And I sit and wonder where my happiness that was so recently so abundant just went.

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Dan Pearce is an American-born author, app developer, photographer, and artist. This blog, Single Dad Laughing, is what he's most known for, with more than 2 million daily subscribers as of 2017. Pearce writes mostly humorous and introspective works, as well as his musings which span from fatherhood, to dating, to life, to the people and dynamics of society. Single Dad Laughing is much more than a blog. It's an incredible community of people just being real and awesome together!