Let’s break up. We’re just not compatible. I was lured to you under an illusion of progressing further into 2014; the only direction for us is up, I thought. But it was a lie. You’re wedged between the depths of winter and the promise of spring, but, let’s face it, that’s the worst place to be.
You’re dark and rainy, cold and miserable.
I feel like I owe an apology to Bishkek, who I’ve always complained about in February. It turns out, it’s not Bishkek, it’s you. Here we are in Ghent and the doldrums still linger. Winter has gone on for too long. The newness of the new year has worn off, resolutions have been cast aside, and now we’re in February, just waiting to get you over with.
It sounds harsh, but it’s true. I’m stuck in your fog.
There’s a slog to you, February, a staleness that directly contradicts all that I had wanted 2014 to be, the motivation I was sure I could maintain. Maybe there’s an expiration date on January’s resolutions, an invisible limit that runs out at 23:59, 31/1/2014 (see what I did there? I’m really European). Right at the next moment, February, you were there to remind me that nope, there are still obstacles to my grand 2014 plans. Nope, February says, you can receive your national ID, but there’s a chance that Brussels will deny your visa in six months. Nope, you can find a school for Darwin, but it will take six weeks before he can start. Nope, he can start sooner, but he gets sick on his first day and has to stay home all week. “Your plans are nice and all, your ideas and ambitions are admirable. But I’m February, and I suck.”
Some nerve you have.
I was determined to make the best of it, like taking a walk on one of your many grey, dreary days. But you decided a rainstorm was appropriate as soon as we left the house.
We had to hide under the bridge with the legal-graffiti wall until it slowed down.
I guess it’s a good thing that you’re shorter than the rest of them, February. I couldn’t stand even one more day of this (and what punishment that we even have that extra day every four years), so thank goodness March has already stepped up to replace you.
So what will I do without you, February? Clear my head and get back on track. Spring is closer than ever and I’m ready for time to keep moving along. Life was pretty dull with you around, February, but the best of 2014, and the best of Kirstin, is yet to come.
It’s a shame that you won’t be around to experience it, because I’m sure I’ll be awesome. Darwin will go to school on a regular basis, I’m already making kilometers of progress on my (previously non-existent) video-editing skills, by which I mean, I watched a Youtube tutorial and opened Final Cut Pro and slapped together some clips before realizing that I probably should find music first. Is that how it works?
I don’t even know, but whatever. This isn’t about that, February.
Let’s end this now; it’s not me, it’s you. Maybe next year we can try to see each other on better terms, but for now, get out of my face. Bring it on, spring.