Every February my heart sings the blues. I prepare for this, I anticipate this, I expect this. But no amount of sitting in front of my sun lamp seems to alleviate the doldrums of February. Graph my attitude, productivity, effort, and attendance, and you will see a rapid and steady decline from February 1st through February 28th (or 29th, on the particularly spiteful years).
It is my firm belief that no major life decision should be made in February. For example, chopping off eight inches of hair. That was not a good life decision for me.
And not only that, but relationships are HARD in February. Maybe I’m the only one, but plotting a vacation to get away from it all has crossed my mind only like one hundred times per hour.
Dar William pretty much sums it up in her song, “February”:
First we forgot where we’d planted those bulbs last year
And then we forgot that we’d planted it all
Then we forgot what plants are altogether
And I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting
And the nights were long and cold and scary, can we live through February?
It’s not my dear husband’s fault that it’s February. He didn’t tell the sun to sleep for days on end. Or at least, I don’t think he did. But sometimes it’s so hard to keep from being resentful of whoever is nearest, and in the hibernation of February this is often family.
What is a person to do?
It’s about this time every year that we plan an End of the World Party.
Starting the first year out of college, a dear friend and I decided that if you can’t beat it, you may as well join it. Or maybe there was a televangelist convinced that the end was drawing near. Or maybe we just wanted an excuse to view and mock “The Day After Tomorrow”. Whatever the seed idea, it has grown into a much needed day of celebrating the fact that, sure we may feel that the world is ending, but at least we have one another.
Mostly we eat really yummy food (a “last meal” of sort) and drink wine and tell stories, and laugh and cry, and provide some rays of sunshine in what otherwise can be a really lousy month. Sometimes we play games. And there were several years in a row in which we watched the most recent apocalyptic movie, though “2012” may have done us in on that, since it was so bad, we actually kind of thought it might be the end of the world.
The point, of course, is to remind ourselves that there are other people that are also slogging through, hanging onto the hope that spring will indeed come again, the thaw will bring flowers, and the sun will start to grace us for longer and longer stretches each day.
It’s the end of February, so I am hopeful for spring. But it isn’t too late to grab some champagne with a buddy. After all, a friend reminded me recently that March is the month in which the snow just gets browner. At least we can laugh (or cry) about that with our friends.
After all, what else is there to do?
If this were the last night of the world
What would I do?
What would I do that was different
Unless it was champagne with you?
P.S. If you need more ideas of how to get through the wintery months, check out Managing the February Blues.