Woah, hey March. Where’d you come from?

I have this thing about February (and September). Maybe I’ve mentioned it before -

I don’t like it. This stems from a long history of my mind malfunctioning in February, and this year was, thankfully, different. I just didn’t want to jinx it by mentioning it.

Also, February is gray, and this year I was treated with days with temperatures in the fifties – days when I could wear flip-flops and leave my coat in the car – followed by mornings waking up to find my car buried under an inch of snow.

Grapple with that, sunshine lover.

(And here is where even I don’t really know what I’m talking about:)

February this year ended on kind of a weird note. I found myself in a blinding moment of self-realization, and I think (well, I hope), that I am finally ready to grow up.

But this is me we’re talking about, and there is plenty of evidence that shows that “grow up” isn’t an order I respond to well.