I thought I saw a glint of hope in your eyes when spring came around. Could it be that the worst is over? You went outside, warmed up, and only returned to your home for a minute--just enough time dig out your tropical wardrobe, research what kind of bike tire you needed and the most cheerful flowers to plant. You rushed back out wearing sandals, wrinkled shorts, and an incorrectly buttoned Bermuda shirt. You were greeted with snow and cold and renewed suggestions that the publishing industry is convulsing in its wheelchair, foaming at the mouth, and listlessly slapping at the medical alert button. Shoulders slumped, spade dropping listlessly from your fingertips, you returned to your home and flicked the heat up a degree or two.