Yesterday was kind of rough. And the later it got, the sadder I became. Even Texas Roadhouse didn't help (though that might have been because I wasn't allowed to eat any of the rolls).
This morning I think I figured out why:
It's February. Blast and wretch.
And even if last year's did turn out to be better than normal, I still can't help dreading it. Nothing good ever happens in February (sans last year). Nothing. Which means, of course, that I'll probably not get any stickers on my sleeping chart (I'll explain that later) and my strict health code will go all to pieces (I'll explain that, too) and I won't start exercising in two weeks like I am supposed to and I'll get sick the third week and there will be tons of snow and I won't figure out the Photoshop mask tool properly and I'll end up hating Robert Lowell and I might even die.
Grief. How's that for a dramatic way to start the worst month?
This morning I think I figured out why:
It's February. Blast and wretch.
And even if last year's did turn out to be better than normal, I still can't help dreading it. Nothing good ever happens in February (sans last year). Nothing. Which means, of course, that I'll probably not get any stickers on my sleeping chart (I'll explain that later) and my strict health code will go all to pieces (I'll explain that, too) and I won't start exercising in two weeks like I am supposed to and I'll get sick the third week and there will be tons of snow and I won't figure out the Photoshop mask tool properly and I'll end up hating Robert Lowell and I might even die.
Grief. How's that for a dramatic way to start the worst month?
:( Sorry that is has been rough and that now it is February, promising more roughness. Good luck! I'll be thinking about you.
ReplyDeleteHaha. I agree. February is for the birds (love, that is).
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