A Case of The Februaries?

Usually I read on my way to work to help speed the wasted hours of commuting. This morning however, no matter how hard I tried, I was unable to concentrate so I reached for my I-pod. I swiveled down my list of artists, and for the life of me could not decide what listen to because truthfully, I did not feel like listening to anything. After a few more idle minutes, I traded in the I-pod for brooding like a hormonal teenager. What the hell was going on with me? Why have I been feeling so apathetic, so anti-social, so, lukewarm about everything? Could I be suffering from a case of what Horvendile of A Likely Story, calls The Februaries? Here are my other symptoms that corroborate my creeping suspicion that i am indeed suffering from this seasonal malady.

Symptom #1 "Self-indulgence masquerading as self-reflection"

This morning the larger of my skinny jeans did not fit me as comfortably as I would have liked. Translation: I could only just get the zipper up while standing, but would risk serious embarrassment by sitting down in them. I can’t believe this! How did this happen? I shouted at my bulging reflection in the mirror. The truth of the matter was that I knew oh too well how this happened. It’s called eating ice cream once and sometimes even twice a day for two weeks! Not too much of a mystery there.
Why the abuse? I have been telling myself that it is all in the name of research. How am I to break into the ice cream business, if I don’t eat lots and lots of ice cream? All I have to say is that if I don’t get rid of this case of the Februaries, the only thing I will be breaking into is a pair of plus size jeans.

Symptom #2 ‘Why Bother?’

The, what the hell am I doing with my life panic, that seems to set in this time of year has only been met head on with the, why even bother doing anything with my life indifference that is doing a pretty good job of unraveling me. You are right Matt; it’s not despair that I’m feeling. Despair would be a welcomed improvement from my disgruntled, yet unjustifiably phlegmatic state. Despair would signal the coming of spring, the season of giving a shit, the season of sucking it up and doing something about it.

Symptom #3 “Massive Social Hibernation”

Lets just say that, my apartment is clean, all my bills are paid, and I’m doing a good job of catching up on this years reading.

Symptom #4 “Mister Roboto”

That’s Miss Roboto to you. I have unconsciously developed the worst fake smile and, like those aging TV actresses who are over zealous about Botox, I seem to have no control over it. Just look at me for longer than five seconds and that goofy smile will magically display its self. March better get here fast, or people are gonna begin to think I’m the Prozac Queen.

Symptom #5 “I just called to say I love you…”

Now I’ve skipped over a few important symptoms in order to get to the granddaddy of them all, Valentine’s Day. Somehow, I seem never to have a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day, not that I would relish the holiday if I had. Romance is a spontaneous thing. You can’t plan it, you certainly can’t buy it, and you’re lost if you think your gonna find it in a quaint little restaurant, seated side by side with other couples all trying to have a romantic meal of their own, all the while, listening to cheesy love songs, and sharing a heart shaped cherry cobbler. That’s the curse of St. Valentine if you are paired off.

Now if you’re single, Valentine’s Day is just as much of a trap. Stay home and read a book or watch Sex and The City like your February Social Hibernations is telling you to do, and you’re a loser. Go out with your chick friends for some, we’re single and okay with that drinks, and you’re an even bigger loser.

The restaurant where I work is offering their annual Valentine’s Day pre fix, and all this week the reservation have been rolling in, table for two 6pm, table for two 7:30, and could we have that romantic table by the fire place… blah, blah, blah. There is one reservation however that brought a smile, a genuine smile, to my face. It’s a reservation for one. That’s right, one. And, it’s not an error, for example not remembering it would be Valentines Day and therefore, full of couples. The reservation was informed of the special pre fix and chose to take part in the Valentine’s meal, all by themselves. I won’t reveal the name of the reservation, but what I will say is that you, Reservation For One, are my one and only Valentine’s Day hero, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart.

Symptom #6 My Very Own

Now this symptom is one of my very own. It’s not a common one, but if you find yourself suffering from it, just consider it an added bonus.

This morning I left for work much earlier than I am used to. I did this, not because I was overzealous about working a day shift, but in order to take a TB test that the health department was requiring of all employees. That’s right people, TUBERCULOSIS! When hearing the words, have a good day and, good luck with the TB test! from my roommate this morning, I strangely felt like a character out of a freakin’ Charlotte Bronte novel. And get this, when do we have to come back in to get our results? Valentine’s Day! I do have a dark sense humor and, if I weren’t suffering from a wicked case of The Februaries, I might actually find that funny.