You’re generally my least favorite month of the year because, let’s be honest, you can be a bit of a douche. You might be short, but you’re mean and mighty. You come in like a lion and stay that way through your entire reign. You certainly don’t make it easy for people to like you.
And though you arrived guns a blazing this morning, covering the entire city in a sheet of ice threatening every hip in the geriatric population, you also brought with you the gift of peace. And sleep. And a calm, which I haven’t felt in far too long.
Maybe it was the new sheets, maybe it was this song by Joanna Newsom, maybe it was the verbena tea, maybe it was time, maybe it was your promise of a countdown, maybe it was the snow that put a hush over the night. Or perhaps it’s just the simple fact that I get to escape you this year. All I know is (and I never thought I’d say this) I’m quite pleased to see you.