I HATE FEBRUARY

I really hate February. Every February I become engrossed with bitterness and anger for no reason. All day, everything anyone says irritates me. It doesn't matter what they say, just the fact that they're talking, I want to hammer a nail through their tongue, and into the floor!

There are no holidays looming to look forward to, except those stupid days that only bankers and government workers get to take off.

Winter has strung on way too long. All the snow that looked so festive in December is now just hiding in all the dark places, covered with pollution that came from who knows where. And as the snow melts it exposes that ugly brown sludge underneath that is supposed to be GRASS, or flowers or something else that is ALIVE!

All month, I can't bring myself to be motivated to do anything but be miserable. Every event annoys me. Even if it's completely insignificant and irrelevant to my life, I just want to die, or at least just sleep until spring comes.

I'm certain that a big part of my sub-suicidal animosity this month is due to the weather. December we marvel and smile as new snow falls. January is cold and snowy, but at least it has character. February is crap. Even the original calendar makers, Mayans or Greeks or who ever they were, they knew that February sucked, that's why it only has 28 days which are mostly 28 days of monochromatic drab.

February is so uninteresting, dull, boring, tedious, monotonous, dry, dreary; unexciting, unimaginative, uninspiring, insipid, lackluster, flat, stale, wishy-washy, colorless; lame, tired, sterile, anemic, barren, tame; middle-of-the-road, run-of-the-mill, mediocre, nondescript, characterless, mundane, unremarkable, humdrum. . . . . . it even pisses of ground hogs.