March is a very hard month for me, typically speaking. Bad enough that I am genuinely superstitious about it. I just expect, at this point, things to suck in March. Not everything, for sure. One of my delightful nieces was born in March. My father was born in March. Angelique was born in March. I made some cool-ass friends two days ago (which was already March!).
But, generally, I dream of skipping to the end of March. Maybe to just a couple of days before all those birthdays I mentioned (because, seriously, they’re all at the end of March; I think their mothers were trying to spare them March birthdays, but just couldn’t quite do it). It never happens, but I dream of it. I hate March enough that I really could have sworn I had a “fucking March” tag on this blog, but I do not.… Continue reading →