I took Spanish and French in high school instead of Latin (dead language...bo-ring), so I can't say for sure, but I'm pretty sure January is a Latin word for "the fun is over." It is my least favorite month of the year; it's like the hall monitor that shushes you for having laughing too loudly with your friends on the way to class (jealous, much?). It's the Sarah McLachlan song that comes on in the car and interrupts your jam, and now all you can think about is that ten minute long ASPCA commercial--that starving puppy! The kitten in the cage! January is about as much fun as Gwyneth Paltrow at an all-you-can-eat-buffet (no thank you, she's on a cleanse).
My house (and everyone else's) looked so much better with decorations. Cover that bare space in lights and garland. Hide that flaw with a wreath. Bask in the warm glow of Christmas lights. Now that they are all boxed up in the attic, my surroundings look so plain and unadorned. Where is the sparkle, the glow, the festiveness? January said no.
I stepped on the scale last week and did a triple take. Saw a number there I have not seen in a while, and holy Richard Simmons, it was not a friendly number. Part of the magic and wonder of the holiday season is that calories do not count. However, January monitors calories like the Count on Sesame Street (two...two hundred calories! ha, ha, ha, ha!). So now it's back to the fire drill cardio I despise (let's face it: sweat is SO not me). Thank God I work out at home because the gym is almost as crowded as the checkout lines at a Trader Joes. Good-bye Combos and kettle chips, hello apples and oatmeal. I'd love a cup of eggnog, but January said no.
Gone are all the parties and celebrations and seasonal goodies. Starbucks doesn't come out with special flavors for January--there is no resolution flavored latte, which would be cold and bitter, I'm sure. The peppermint bark has disappeared along with all the gingerbread and Christmas cookies. Would you like a holiday cocktail? Reindeer rum runner, sleigh full of Schnapps, peppermint-tini? Well, January said no.
The best thing I can do in January is put on a brave face and while I wait for the least fun month of the year to end, I hope for snow. Although: snow in Charlotte in January? After a weekend of 70 degree weather? It'll probably say no. I'll be here with my rice cakes, celery sticks and P90X, checking for flurries.
And if you see that hussy January, tell her not to the let the door hit her on the way out!