February 21, 2009

I have never liked February. It's awkward as hell, what with the short month that always screws up paydays and yes, I know that it all balances out somewhere further down the line in August or somewhere, but still. And then you have the fact that every four years, there is an extra day, so you have to keep track of that and I know it doesn't seem like a big deal, but it bugs. Plus it is still grey and rainy, and there are no major holidays to anticipate, and it is always the month when how much you spent on Christmas finally catches up with you, and then everyone catches a cold and we don't sleep and then John and I start giving each other those pointed looks over the tops of the kids' heads that mean I think we both know whose turn it is to change the poopy diapers tonight, Bucko. So, to sum up, I am not predisposed to be at my most cheerful at any point this month. If I were going to be cheerful, though, which I'm not so don't get excited, I would have to pick today as the day to do it. I had to run errands downtown with both kids in tow, and I love being downtown this time of month. It was sunny and lovely and everyone was out shopping or walking or doing whatever, and everyone was smiling and saying hello and it was all so nice and normal. Next week I will start noticing gaps in this normalcy -- several stores closed in the middle of business hours, parking weirdly available even at busy times of day. The week after that, bigger and broader gaps, and the people who are out are edgy and testy about their personal space, and the week after that -- well, we'll all be staying home, won't we? But, as John, who has been dabbling in Buddhism, says, now is the only moment you really know exists, and so you have to embrace it. And he's right. Although pique drives me to add that John has been sounding more and more like a fortune cookie lately.