Saturday in a dark place

Where I live, the sun doesn’t bother to get up until eight o’clock and only stays afloat a mere nine hours. Then it retreats and in doing so, it leaves us vitamin D deprived, coldblooded and depressed.
In this state of darkness, both figurative and real, we lie our asses off in surveys on happiness and conjure up stuff like rye bread, minimalistic furniture and beer, which we claim, is probably the best in the world; it really isn’t.
Kierkegaard advocated walks as a preventive measure against depression and a catalyst for thinking.
So I’ll walk, think and be cured.