2025: The Year of...

I met a girl some years ago who told me she hated February. She thought it was a wasteful month—too few weekends, silly changes every four years, and the older you get, the more complex its grip seems to tighten. It’s the month of Aquarius moving into Pisces—water, water, drowning everything away. The month specifically allocated to romantic love—a ridiculous, cruel notion when relationships fail, people are desperate for love (or sex), and during a water month, most are going through a love drought. Every February I think of this girl and agree with her sentiment. February is a wasteful month. And yet, my first love, my firstborn, was born in February, so I am forced to recognize it. It's the month you need to start functioning again because the New Year hangover is over, and January's festive glow has worn off—reality sets in. And so has my need to blog. 2025 rolled in with all the grace of stepping into a giant pile of dog shit. Slippery, stinky, ugly—with the end result ...