My Christmas tree is at the curb. My fridge is full of hearty greens and non-dairy milks. I’m eyeing the exercise bike with renewed interest and contempt, and I’ve started a bullet journal. In other words, it’s January. The excitement and anticipation that began in December has passed. The decorations we feverishly brought out -- greenery, Christmas lights, tree trimming -- are being stripped and put away, one by one, while the house is quiet.

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