April Fool

That’s right, I’ll say it – the year should turn over in the spring, not the dead of drecky, yucky, miserable winter. And why? Because of resolutions, that’s why.

No, seriously! Resolutions fail because they’re made in January. Some examples?

  • Hey, Imma start eating right! When the only things in season are cabbage and icicles. Yes they are healthy but they’re no. damn. fun.
  • Howbout let’s get fit? What can we do without actually leaving the house, because have you seen it out there? Wet, cold, windy, slippy, and almost always dark? Fuck it, I’m going back to bed.
  • I’m finally going to write that novel! A peppy little number about darkness. And despair.
  • Talk to people more! About how dark and depressing everything is, and how much I hate winter.
  • Spend less money, save more! On what, heat? Electricity? Food? All things you need more of in the dead of winter.
  • Quit smoking or drinking? Good Lord, what does this leave me to live for!?
  • Get organized! Oh, what’s the point?

You see? You SEE? Every damn one of these resolutions is easier to keep when there’s sunlight and a chance of leaving the house without losing a couple of toes to frostbite. The only sensible resolution to make at this time of year is to hunker down and try to survive until the sun comes back.

I rest my case.

(Okay, yes, this is partly bitterness. I rang in the New Year in Rural Hell, Germany, and now that I’m home I could get started – in fact I was just about to go downstairs and clean the kitchen, but I’m pinned in my chair by a warm sleepy kitty. But it’s only partly bitterness – deep down, I know I’m on to something here.)

Song du jour of the day: Yesterday is Here, by Tom Waits.

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