Okay, I’m pretty sure it’s not just me but February is beginning to feel like one long month, even though the math would say otherwise.
I have a feeling it has a lot to do with the weather, we’re not used to having more than a few inches of snow on the ground on this date of the calendar (although I hesitate to whine about that when I see the storms that hit the Maritimes recently, now that’s a real Canadian winter).
And I feel even guiltier for whining seeing how we’ve enjoyed some beautiful sunshine lately, which can be rare around these parts in the winter, but then I’m also still scraping windows in the morning because of the clear nights so it’s a bit of a trade-off.
However, normally at this time, as in like last year, we’re thinking of booking a tee time in the near future. This year we’re wondering when that day will come.
Although it should be noted the snow is melting quite fast and being an optimist I’m pretty sure when that calendar on the wall does change to March the golf season will be firmly in sight (or at least it helps to state that as a fact, whether it’s just wide-eyed optimism or my version of what goes for truth these days).
And as I was walking to my vehicle Friday morning, I couldn’t help but notice the sounds of the birds in my neighbourhood. So even as I complain about the ides of February, it actually made me smile and gave me hope that spring will come one day and maybe even sooner than later.
But it’s not even so much the weather of February that I think is getting to me as much as the feeling, or aura, or sensation, or perception or……check your thesaurus and fill in the blank pls and thx, of this time of year.
Let me explain.
On Thursday night I started looking for my car insurance papers that I was sure I laid out in my pile of papers on the counter that need addressing in the near future: you know, RRSP stuff, household bills, family reunions to sign up for, bank statements, articles I mean to read but never seem to get to…..
And I was quite sure it was there somewhere near the top, as I knew it was due on Friday, but after four or five increasingly frantic searches through the pile, that’s a little bigger than it should be to be honest, I was pretty darn frustrated and started to head to bed as it was getting late.
I rationalized that I don’t necessarily need the notice in the mail to actually get insurance, but it also felt like unfinished business hanging over my head and I was worried that I might be losing it as I could have sworn that’s where the notice should be in my world.
On the way past the coat rack on the way to bed it dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, I had actually put the envelope in the inside top pocket of my winter coat earlier in the week in anticipation of getting it done sometime this week. At the time it seemed like a longshot as I had no memory of doing that, plus I almost never plan ahead.
Except it was there. Eureka, I found it and I could sleep after all.
However, it bothered me that I couldn’t remember putting it there and I had just wasted 20 minutes and a lot of frustration fruitlessly looking for it.
Now you could obviously blame it on my lack of organization skills, my procrastination problem that led to the lateness of the hour and the fatigue factor, or even my advancing age or stressed-out lifestyle – but I choose to go in a different direction.
I blame February. Bring on March.