It’s that time of year where everyone is seasonally depressed (and talking about it). The sun starts setting before you’re even hungry for an afternoon snack and it’s too cold to waste away in the park. I agree that having to leave the office far past sundown is perverted, but gloom is actually good if you just give it a chance. Like how did Kate Bush end up back at the top of the charts and we’re all still saying dreadful things about gray skies (Wuthering Heights and all that)? You can lay in bed and read a book, or go on a walk and feel your face get cold, louse around a coffee shop, get a drink in a hotel lobby. Lean into it and think about yourself as a woman who lives near a windy cliff (non-suicidally)—see if you are suited to brooding or Caspar David Friedrich-type tranquility. There is also something so romantic about trotting around in the cold with someone and then de-bundling together, though, in general I’m a proponent of extreme weather dating in either direction, i.e., holding hands and slipping in the snow, sweating from your face on the subway platform.