2018-02-08 / Viewpoint

The VIEW from here

Happy February!


Emily Caswell Emily Caswell Perhaps the problem is that any month that kicks off with a hangover is going to be a long (and dark and depressing) month, but the fact is, no matter the reason I really hate January.

I’m a positive person by nature, “hate” isn’t a word I use lightly, but I just can’t kick the feeling that January is the worst.

I thought this year would be different as my better half and I rang in the new year in the Sunshine State, but somehow evading reality for two days of January didn’t make the month go by any faster.

As we both commute to work there have been far too many white-knuckle mornings and evenings. Plus, pumping gas in below zero temps is a special form of torture.

January brings with it a looming sense to get a start fresh, eat healthy and get active, when all I really want to do is eat popcorn, drink wine, stay cozy under a million blankets and binge watch anything to take my mind off of the chill outside.

The Christmas decorations are put away, in fact, the entire buzz of anticipation that I love about the holiday season is gone. No more presents to buy, no more parties to host, no more surprises to surprise with. Simple pleasures like a long walk with my dog or reading a book on my deck seem like something that happened a life time ago.

Will my parent’s pool ever reopen? Will I ever need sunscreen? Will I ever sweat (not on my treadmill) again?

And don’t even get me started on the germs.

Ugh! Every place I go, the grocery store, a work event, a neighbor’s house, seems like the plague has just left or just arrived or is searching for a host.

In turn, my germophobe ways lead me to bathing in hand sanitizer and compulsively washing my hands, which leads to dry, cracked and chapped skin. At a meeting the other day I saw someone catch a glimpse of my hands and move away from me. (Last I checked dry skin isn’t contagious, but I don’t blame the person — better safe than sorry!).

But alas, it’s over. Sweet February has arrived with the promise of a Valentine’s Day date and a birthday celebration for my hubby. And bless this month and its short-ness, even on a leap year we only have to make it 29 days. Before we know it, we’ll be into March with its promise of spring vacations ahead, green grass and the best holiday of all — St. Patrick’s Day — I have no problem with months that include hangovers on the 18th.

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