dear you, Happy December. The air in the Bay Area is finally crisping up after a long, hot year. We've turned our heater on. I've stopped drinking sparkling water, and rotate between pairs of slipper socks. That's what signifies a different season, I suppose. While it doesn't really get Winter Winter in Oakland, a change of any sort in this timeless year feels like movement. Who cares if it's just a matter of wearing a different thickness of socks? I'll take it.
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