Exploring January's Intricacies Through Casual, Grammatically Incorrect Blogging

January is a universal time of year.  It's a time for returning unwanted gifts and using gift cards to buy stuff that's probably just as unwanted.

It's a time for changing calendars. Provided that you purchased one from Wal-Mart or from one of those assaulting kiosks blocking your path in the mall.

And if you didn't buy one you take the old one down as it is nearly a week past expiration.

Unless it's one of those fancy ones with a full-sized January page.

In that case you're probably very rich and influential and have people who take care of changing your calendar for you.  

Or you're just an over-preparer.  

But if you don't have a fancy one and take the old one down, you'll discover a wall behind the calendar.  A square portion of wall that doesn't exist 364 days of the year.

So you sit in your living room staring out the window and occasionally glancing at the bare spot nervously, as if it were a woman recently deprived of her clothes standing in you kitchen.

Re-directing your eyes to the window you notice how everyone still has up their tacky Christmas decorations.  Or should you say holiday decorations? 

Whatever.

The point is, the calendar thing is urgent. You need it to schedule out your exercise routine. 

And to refer to when paying bills and you forget what year it is, and when thinking it's now 2008 you look to confirm that thought with some authority on the subject.

Imagining the embarrassment if you wrote the wrong year gives you a small panic attack.  And when you call to make a doctor's appointment, you don't know when would work for you because you don't have a calendar.

But, again, what you really need the calendar for is to keep track of how long your enthusiasm for your new year's resolution lasts, and if it beats last year's record of two weeks.  And now you want to make a resolution next year to keep your resolutions, so you jump to mark this on your calendar, but alas, you don't have one.  

So you explode in rage and drive to the store in a fury running over two orphans, knocking down an old blind lady and flipping off a cop.

To your dismay all the ones they have left are calendars with kittens, Hannah Montana, NASCAR, flowers and one with Bible verses on oil paintings that only old ladies would like.

So you blindly grab one made by a dietary supplement company in which March is male health month featuring recommended supplements for prostate and E.D. problems.

And June is digestive health month, advertising for their wonderful line of laxatives.

Thankfully you got that disgusting wall ornament in time to mark loathsome dates such as the start of school and Valentine's Day.

And this reminds you of how much you hate Hallmark holidays.  Like what the heck is "sweetest day"???  How many love days does a single person have to survive through a year??

And you think about how you hate chocolate candies, and red roses, and how red and pink don't go together no matter how badly cross-eyed lovers want them to.

But you decide it's best to just deal with January for now.