Today you're going to be abducted and held for ransom by a woman with Seasonal Affective Disorder.
"I don't need the money," she'll tell you while she pastes newsprint onto a piece of construction paper to form the ransom demand she'll send to your wife. "I just do this because it's what people expect. I just hate the fucking winter and I need someone around to talk to about it. Fuck it's cold."
You'll ask her to let you go.
"Not till Spring. Jesus, it's so fucking gray outside. Isn't it too fucking gray?"
You won't say anything.
"Agree that it's too fucking gray or I'll lock you in the storm cellar with no food. There's water bugs down there."
You'll tell her it's too fucking gray.
"So depressing," she'll say. "Doesn't it just make you want to crawl into a tree trunk and die?"
After mailing your ransom demand your kidnapper will come home and make a giant pot of stew. It will taste really good. You'll spend the next three months watching cop shows and eating hot stew and talking about how cold it is. One day you'll say to her, "I kind of like the coziness of winter sometimes" and she'll break your right knee with the fireplace poker, which will be devastating to you because you're a competitive cyclist.
Happy Competitive Cyclists Should Just Do What People With Seasonal Affective Disorder Tell Them To Do Day!