It doesn’t make sense, right? I mean, of all the months to loathe, why chose the shortest month of the year? Why pick on the month that brings the heart-and-flowery goodness of Valentine’s Day? In Ontario, February even delivers a long weekend in the form of Family Day. Here’s the rub: we Canadians have come to expect our long weekends to involve sun, beers and barbeque. Long weekends are not about waiting in line with 1000 other families for the ‘privilege’ of baring your translucent flesh at the public swimming pool.
It’s nothing personal, February, it’s just that you are so conveniently sandwiched between two months that aren’t as hate-worthy. January represents the start of a brand new year; the tabula rasa of months, with a little warm-and-fuzzy New Year’s Eve glitter still clinging to its hem. And March, well that is the month that ushers in the promise of spring. It heralds the return of bunnies and baby chicks, earthy smells and thick green stems clawing their way up through the supple earth.
What do you bring to the table, February? Your formerly fluffy, pristine snow is sludgy and dirty. The composter is stuffed right to the top. The kids’ winter coats are irretrievably stained. My minivan smells like goats have been breeding in the back. I have completely run out of ideas for packing school lunches. I am done, February. Done.
Some Canadians make the move to go somewhere warm in February. I think that is a calculated risk. For instance, this year you might have thought a Disney vacation was in order to beat the February blahs. However, you probably didn’t plan on having to wear jeans and sweaters on your ‘southern’ vacation. Nice one, February. Your evil is not constricted by the laws of physics or geography.