February is the ‘coalition government month’ of the year; it achieves nothing, no-one wants it and it goes on for far too long.
Ok, February tries to make itself more interesting with its Valentines and Pancake days but neither of those do anything to dispel the depressing greyness of each crawling twenty four hour period.
The problem is that by the time February arrives I’ve had enough of winter, with its dark nights and mornings, and most of my winter clothes are either rubbish or my husband’s jumpers so I look like an extra fromFargo.
I have wondered before whether I, like so many people, suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and found some information on the MIND website which explains that ‘the cycle of light and dark determines our sleeping and waking patterns. Until the widespread use of electric light, people used to wake and get up with the dawnlight and sleep when it became dark. In winter, people would sleep longer and be less active’.
Damn you electric light! Perhaps, I need to go back to those more primitive times and obey my natural body-clock, I’m sure the office will understand if I roll in at ten. The problem with this approach, though, is that it doesn’t work out so well for me in the summer months.
Anyway, MIND lists the symptoms a sufferer of SAD may present with and it appears that ‘you want to punch February in the F’ isn’t one of them so I have to surmise that I don’t technically have a mental illness. I simply have to accept that February is just there to be hated and this year it’s clinging on like grim death with its extra leapy day.
So, I welcome March with open arms and the anticipation of warmer, lighter days. I look forward to the orgasm of daffodils, sprightly lambs and Britain’s Got Talent which will climax in a ‘clocks going forward’ frenzy in around four weeks time.
Farewell February. You make everybody sick.