Perhaps it’s because I was a summer baby—born in the high humidity and temperatures of Fort Worth, Texas, on an early summer morning in June.

Maybe it’s because for the next month I’ll be writing checks and letters dated with 2018 on them. When will 2019 FINALLY stick in my brain?

Some would say it’s fear—and maybe there’s something to this. I don’t know for sure, but the fact remains. I DO NOT LIKE JANUARY.

For one thing, January follows December. Yes, I know you already knew that. But let me clarify for you. December is full of sparkling lights, wonderful nostalgic music, people who are genuinely excited to participate in the Christmas and other holiday festivities. Even folks who were feeling curmudgeonly in November, seem to find their smile when the calendar flips to December. If you have children (even grown ones) it’s fun to remember their little faces on past Christmas mornings. I have a bank of old movies now, preserved digitally, to experience those scenes any time I wish.

All I know is New Year’s Eve is more fun than New Year’s Day. Depending upon how you spent the previous evening, you can be rested or roasted. Either way, you’re facing a brand new year, with brand new obligations, and maybe a host of problems to go with them. And, contrary to the fall and early winter, there are virtually no fun holidays! The only really good one for fun is Valentine’s Day, and even that has its pitfalls. We have to wait until at least May to get revved up for a fun holiday.

I become weary of the cold by January, and yet there are two or three more months of it to endure. Plus, there’s still a lot of darkness in January. Let’s face it, the sun won’t set noticeably later until at least March (and even that is RIGGED with what they like to call “Daylight Saving Time”).

Come to think of it, maybe it’s not just January that depresses me. I think I’d prefer to wake up in April on the day following New Year’s Eve.

Yeah, that’s it. Now we’re on to something!