"Nooo!
I was loving this year. Why does it have to end? Can't we just hold off
for a bit? Can we take a poll and see what others think? Let's keep
this year going! I don't want you, January! I'm going to count up during the countdown. Keep this year going!"
January, though, is the worst month of the year. Here are some reasons why that is so.
It's
the first month of the year, which really just makes it the year's
Monday. It's a Monday as well that starts on a cold, snowy day. Not all
Mondays are cold. But on some, you have to warm up the car, you don't
want to get out of bed, it's dark when you go to work and it's dark when
you get home.
"Just woke up and it's dark as hell. I probably
have some time before I have to get up. It's gotta be about four in the
morning. Seven thirty! What?! I'm late! Ahhh, it's freezing out there!
Everything here feels bad!"
Those Mondays are awful. And that's January. January is one straight month of that day. It's a thirty-one day Monday.
Another
reason it's the worst month? There is nothing in it at all to look
forward to. Nothing. November? Not too much in itself, but it means Holidays are coming. December? Christmas
and New Year's. February? It's cold, yes, but it's not that long. Plus,
March is around the corner and that's when things start to be good
again. January? Nothing. January is cold, dark, sucks and leads right
into another bad month. It is garbage followed by garbage! January is an
episode of Yes, Dear that leads into Two and a Half Men.
"What's on tonight?"
"Yes, Dear followed by Two and a Half Men."
"Wooooo. I really don't think I can deal with that without getting some vitamin D. Want to shut it off until September?"
It's
a month that almost forces you to take naps, and then changes its look
entirely when you do so. January puts you to bed at 3pm, and you wake up
an hour later, it looks like it's a completely new year.
"What
the hell? I went to sleep when the sun was up and now it looks like
Skynet has become self aware out there. Where's John Connor? Am I too
late? Am I a member of the resistance? I'll be back, bed. I have to
figure this out!"
Usually, January starts on a
hangover. It starts that way! It starts after the last year's big party.
The first glimpse you have of January is with a pounding headache, the
taste of cigarettes in your mouth and a craving for a McGriddle and ice
cream.
"Oh, man. Happy New Year, huh? Let's do it, January!
I'm starting this one off right. I can't find my shoes, I dropped my
phone in a toilet and I don't think I left my keys in a cab, I'm pretty
sure the driver stole them. Just took them! What is he going to do with
my keys?"
January starts after a night that is always
over-hyped – New Year's Eve. It is never as great as people say it's
going to be. Lines are crazy long. It's expensive to get into places
that then have no room for you to be in anyway. Drinks are watered down.
Girls are crying all over the place. Men are fighting for no reason.
People try to dress as if it's hotter than it is. Places have DJs who
think they are more important than the countdown.
"Hey, when is the countdown?"
"Oh,
that happened. We didn't do it, though; because I had to say "DJ Bag of
Shit is in the building" over a Madonna mash up thirteen times. Happy
New Year."
The first two hours into January is usually when
people start to realize that the night that was supposed to be amazing
is an expensive bust, and now, even though the only thing they want to
do is get home, they can't get a cab.
"Hi, can I get a cab to..."
"Hahaha.
Are you serious? A cab? What, you don't think it's the busiest cab night of the year? I was picking up the phone to take it off the hook! Good luck with that."
I
have never been in a warm place for January. Absolutely terrible.
Twenty seven Januarys in my life, all of them frigid. There has to be
places in the world where January doesn't matter. Brazil? I'm sure that
January in Brazil is pretty sweet. I would love to be there for January.
I'm sure people who live in warm places never hope that they could live
in a cold place for January.
"January. Man, I hate this month."
"Yeah.
Still hot, and STILL women walking around in thongs. Can we get
something a little different? Would it kill anyone if it was cold around
here for a bit?"
"I'd love to see a woman in a sweater. Just once. Never happens."
"I hear you, man... Do you find it weird that we speak English to each other and not Portuguese?"
"I was just about to ask you the same thing."
I would love to see a January that is not like living in a meat freezer with a busted light.
That's another thing. There's
no sun in January. The sun is out for about four hours a day.
Worst thing is – it's only out on the coldest days. The over cast,
dark-as-hell days are usually the warmest.
"Whoa! Look at that
sun! It's probably great out there. Let's just check the weather. Huh.
That's weird. They usually have a temperature posted. All this says is
'The Sun's a Liar'. That's a strange forecast."
You get
sunlight for just about no time at all. January feels the way that being
kidnapped probably feels. You're walking along in the sun, and all of
sudden, darkness.
"This is a pretty nice day. I'm having a go... Hey! What are you doing!? Put me down!"
"Get in that trunk! You're coming with us!" (<Slams trunk closed>)
"...Hey! What's going on!? I can't see anything in here! Well, I can't let this darkness
stop me. I have stuff to do. I was on my way home to start this novel I've been putting off. Hard to do in the dark, but it'll have to do. I'm still getting things done. You hear me kidnappers?! I'M STILL GETTING THINGS DONE!"
I
am willing to bet that no feel-good movies or songs are written in
January. Think Good Burger was written in January? Probably not. This is
the month where the Requiem For A Dreams, the Schindlers Lists and the
He Stopped Loving Her Todays are written.
"I feel like writing
a nice, fun song. I'll look outside for some inspiration. Hmmm. Looks
like the Grim Reaper's dick out there. This doesn't make me think of
anything positive. This reminds of the time I saw that dog get hit by a
rogue hot pretzel cart. All right, well this isn't going to be a song
they can play at the beach."
There's no way that there are
artists in the North West Territories or Antarctica who come up with any
sunny, positive stuff. No way. I bet every piece of writing is about or
to the sun.
"Thanks for coming, everyone. This is a poem
entitled 'Sun, You Rhyme with Gun, Which I Could Use to End This Whole
Damn Thing'. Dear Sun. Please come back. It has been dark for eight
months. Eight months, sir Sun. Could you even kinda understand what that
would be like? Okay, look. If you're not going to come back, could you
send a U-Haul to this desolate wasteland? Please, Sun! I can't live like
this anymore. Yesterday I brushed my teeth with a fork. You get
delirious when you don't get vitamin D! My gums are cut to hell! Please,
Sun! Please!"
(<Light Applause>)
"It doesn't really rhyme, but I FEEL him."
Another
reason it is terrible? It has the most depressing day of the year in
it. The third Monday of January is regarded as the most depressing day
of the year. It actually has the highest suicide rate of any other day
of the year. Did you read that?! The highest suicide rate! That's the
big holiday to look forward to in January. Highest suicide rate day.
"Did you get your wife anything for the most depressing day of the year?"
"It's
being delivered Monday. It's about two hundred and forty pounds and
will be hanging by a Monster Cable cord from a beam in the garage."
"Ooooo. Sounds expensive."
"Not
really. It had a lot of potential in high school, but now it's worth
about thirty-five grand a year. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of
goodbyes to write."
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