I’m kind of a weirdo. I mean, anyone that knows me would agree. They’d be confused about why I’d even have to point it out. But, I digress. I’m a weirdo about a lot of things. One of my oddities is that I get really sad for inanimate objects. Example: I was dumb enough to start playing Happy Aquarium on Facebook, and got sad when I sold some of my fish. Like they’d miss me. They’re digital fish.
And colors. My favorite color of all time is yellow, but like some sort of Earth Mother I say I love all colors because I would feel bad about saying I don’t like purple. Like Purple is some middle child who doesn’t get enough love and will grow up with this marred psyche because I didn’t give it the love it needed while in the important growing stages.
So I feel really bad that everyone is raggin’ on February. Sure, it’s cold. It’s bitterly cold. And the slush that makes its way into my “waterproof” boots is not comfortable. But that’s Chicago. And I can’t say February sucks. It’s not February’s fault! I mean, we feel bad for the kids who have dandruff or bad acne or the front teeth that are too big for their face right then, don’t we? We see them and think to ourselves, “Man, I hated that phase. I feel bad for them.” Because really, when our big teeth came in and were too big for our faces? That sucked. So leave February alone. Or else one day he’s gonna flip out on us and turn all hot and we’ll all end up with Cancer.