Oh look, it’s February and I didn’t even realize it when I posted yesterday, which was also February. Better late than never, I suppose.

February, traditionally, has always been my least favorite month of the year. While it may be the shortest month of the twelve, it’s also what I consider to be the last month of winter, as March has always been a spring month to me. That fact makes it seem much longer than it actually is, which depresses me.

I have nothing against winter; I enjoy the holidays (for the most part, anyway), and I love looking at snow and snow days, even if I’d be perfectly happy never having to drive in the snow again. In the past couple years, though, I’ve become convinced that I suffer from SAD, if not severely. By the time February rolls around, I’m so sick of winter that it makes me want to scream sometimes.

But hey…only 26 more days to go, right?

(Aside: What, exactly, is the logic behind the silent “r” in February? Yeah, a silent “e” or “h” is nothing out of the ordinary, but “r”? Who thought this was a good idea?)