I don't generally do well in the winter months. In Niigata, it was February that I found the most unbearable. Here, it is January. The snow is really killing me this year: I lose my appetite, can't sleep (confounded this year by screaming baby), dream about falling. It has me thinking that I need to winter in someplace more pleasant than where I have found myself in the last six years. The life of a bird, as it were. If I could somehow swing it, perhaps I want to work here, although I don't know anything about the school, can't really speak French, and have no idea what their linguistics department is like. Ah well: dream recklessly big, right? Paul Cézanne's Marseille, if you have eyes to see.