In addition to whatever new shows we’re trying to watch (currently: The Pitt, Abbott Elementary, Mr. In-Between, A Knight Of The Seven Kingdoms, Industry) we always have an older sitcom on the go too. The Office, say, or New Girl, or BoJack Horseman, or Community. Most recently it was Schitt’s Creek, which we wrapped up a few days ago. So, visions of Moira Rose were still fresh in our heads yesterday when we saw the news about Catherine O’Hara.

It was one more kick in the nuts delivered by this January. I can’t even talk about world news. I can barely talk about the weather — two huge snowstorms (well, huge for Toronto) in ten days, the last of which set a single-day record in the city, has felt like a blanket lightly pinning us down. At least we didn’t have to call in the army this time.

Usually my (self-diagnosed) season affective disorder doesn’t kick in until February, but this January has felt interminable. Yesterday I saw someone on Instagram* say that it’s only 49 days until Spring. That gave me some hope — seven weeks feels doable — in a month when I haven’t felt much.

* An app which I am hating more and more by the day.