I’ve recently come to the conclusion that there’s just nothing good about January. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not the biggest fan of winter in general, but I really think that January, specifically, comes in a distant twelfth in a ranking of the months, in order of awesomeness.
–New Year’s resolutions. Face it, I’m sorry, they’re going to fail. Everyone seems to always make the same ones: lose weight, eat better, exercise more, quit smoking, find a new job, go out and do more fun and social things, read more books, try new foods, declutter the house, go back to school. But by the time the middle of the month rolls around, most people are in one of two places with their resolutions: either they haven’t started at all, or they went, full-speed, for about two weeks, and are starting to face the inevitable backswing.
Losing weight? It’s hard, people. So is quitting smoking. Exercising more and dealing with the mess at home is not fun, and takes time, and results are usually slow. Doing new things can be fun, unless they cost money or rely on you overcoming your basic state of entropy in order to get off the couch and actually get your ass to that museum. I mean, I made the resolution this year to learn how to dance in 4″ platform heels so that if a pop star finds themselves in desperate need of a backup dancer for a video shoot or big concert with no notice, I’ll be ready, but watching all the Beyonce videos in the world isn’t going to get me off my ass and into those shoes.
–The weather. It’s deep into the worst of all that winter has to offer. Snowy, cold, dark, miserable, wet, icy, and awful. February’s bad with this, too, but January is when you realize that the end of the tunnel is a looong way away.
–The post-holiday letdown. Even if you don’t love the holiday season (which I don’t), January has this gloom of misery that’s exemplified by empty store shelves, bare, stark, houses, and the departure of any cheer that anyone may have been carrying through December. Abandoned Christmas trees litter the landscape with their decaying corpses. It’s just… bleak.
–What year is this? You end up writing the wrong year all month. It takes a while to get used to the change of a new year, so for pretty much a whole month you’re writing the date as some weird zero/one hybrid number that looks like some sort of alien symbol for “war.”
I feel like January should be great. It’s a new year, a new month, new beginnings. It’s first. It’s “one.” It should be a clean slate, a fresh start, a chance for everything new. But it’s almost always a cold, sad disappointment. I wonder if January in the tropics is the same. Maybe I need to do some research. I mean, you need to have as many data points as possible, right?