A patient told me yesterday that she cried all the way home from her Christmas holiday this year, starting as her car drove up the ferry ramp, all the way back to Vancouver. Back to all of that. April may be the cruelest month, but January is certainly the bleakest, especially if you took the advice from my last blog and let your hair down. Everything that slid off the side of your desk last month reappears in your lap. It didn’t actually disappear; it only waited, and now there it is lighting up like a Christmas tree, begging for your attention. Fun’s over, kids, back to work. It’s no wonder everything feels just a little bit harder this month.