I made this Haiku for You
Souls sucked to the marrow, dry
Winter, you bitch; sigh
So I talked to a couple of people the past few days and everyone agrees: February sucks sweaty balls. While there was no shortage of speculation, no one could quite put their finger on exactly what it was that made February so painful. Following are some guesses my cousin Binney and I came up as to why no one is sad when March 1st rolls around:
1. We are being mindfucked. There are only 28 days. Wait, I mean 29. Nope, this year 28. In that little song about the number of days in the month, everyone sort of mumbles the part about February: 30 days has September, April, June and November. All the rest have 31, except for February mumble, mumble, niner.
2. It's full of shitty holidays: Groundhog's Day, Valentine's, President's Day. Three holidays that all amount to much ado about nothing. Groundhog's day celebrates a rodent checking out his shadow to determine whether or not we will have more winter. Guess what asshats? Winter doesn't end until the end of March regardless of what that little pissant Phil sees.
Presiden'ts day at least gets most of us a day off from work, but truth told, I want the day of my own birthday off instead of some long dead, old white guy. And, I know, I know...Valentine's day is supposed to celebrate love and romanticism. Yes, because that's what millions of people deep in the throes of seasonal affective disorder need - pressure to perform.
3. We are well into, and quite over Winter by the time February rolls around. At the beginning of the season, which for some parts of the country starts in like October, everyone is all ooh, snow and ooh, I get to wear my cute boots. February finds us all kicking at black snow and mentally stabbing our spouses with car window scrapers.
4. The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition comes out mid-February. As if you hadn't already been overeating since November, there is now this highly anticipated representation of idealized women up in your grill. If you thought your pants were starting to hurt before February, wait until you try to butter yourself into your swimsuit. Go ahead, have another bite of your hidden Russell Stovers fatass.
5. Everything is dirty and dingy. Cars, windows, floors, my kids. And who could be bothered washing the layers of grime off when they're just going to be back tomorrow? If you were looking for a reason to not do a specific chore...I just provided it. You're welcome.
6. Everyone has spent a little too much time indoors. The T.V. has been running for 48 days straight, the dogs have a funny smell and flat hair, and no matter how many times you straighten the living room, it still looks like the apocalypse occurred three minutes ago. We all feel like this:
7. If they still fit, we hate our clothes. If I have to wear that sweater dress that I got at the beginning of the Winter season, one more time, I am going to strangle someone with the pair of fashion tights I wear with it. Fuck you fashion tights. Fuck you. And winter coat? Could you bunch up a little more and inhibit my driving? Awesome, because nothing makes me happier than feeling like I have t-rex arms when I go to make a left turn.