An Open Letter to February

Dear February,

We need to talk.

You've been a busy, busy month. So far you've brought me work stress, frustration with WIPs, the damn flu, a nightmare experience at the dentist which resulted in possible over medication and honest to god hallucinations and an increasingly fucked up wrist thanks to carpal tunnel.  We won't even talk about the mammogram in  a blizzard. Yep, still sore, btw, thanks for asking.

I know, I know - you've worked really hard what with all the snowstorms, ice storms and bitterly cold temps. You probably need a break just as much as I do. But I've noticed that you seem somewhat hellbent on dumping another giant pile of snow and freezing rain on us. That's an ingenious little mix you seem fond of, and I see you've got yet more snow and ice lined up for us next week.

Here's the thing, I know your shift isn't up for another six days, but you've been working really hard. Too hard, really. And I understand that being the shortest month, you probably feel like you've got something to prove to the other months, but you've done your fair share. More than your fair share. Some (not me, of course) might even go so far as to call you an overachiever.

So here's my thought, why don't you go ahead and take off early. Just clock out, and let March take over. I've heard he's bored. Might as well take a well-deserved vacation and let your slacker brother handle things for a while.

No?

Are you sure?

You know...there's a reason no one likes you.

Disgruntledly  Yours,
Bron

Numbers Are Hard, Yo

Let me tell you the tale of my doctor’s appointment.

At 10:45 am, I arrived at my doctor’s office for my annual checkup, ‘cause you know, I’m all proactive about my healthcare.

I went up to the desk and this happened.

Receptionist: Name?

Me: Bronwyn Green. I’ve got an eleven o’clock with Kristie.

Receptionist: *squints at screen and tilts head* Hmmm…I’m not seeing you. Birth date?

Me: June 3rd.

Receptionist: Are you sure it was at 11?

Me: Yep. See? *holds out appointment card*

Receptionist: *reads card* 11 o’clock on the 6th of February.

Me: Yeah-huh. I don’t know why I’m not in the computer.

Receptionist: Honey…it’s the 4th today. It’s Monday. The 6th is on Wednesday.

Me: So what you’re saying is that I don’t understand how calendars work.

Receptionist: *nods apologetically* Do you want me to see if we can squeeze you in today.

Me: Well, I did get all pretty to come down here.

Receptionist: *tilts her head and looks questioningly at me and rightfully so since I was a windblown mess*

Me: I shaved.

Receptionist: Oh. Right! *looks at computer screen* Why don’t we get you in with Natasha, then?

Doctor: *enters room, shakes my hand* Hey. I heard you shaved.

Tonight while we were eating supper, we got a call. I let the answering machine get it. It was a reminder to arrive 15 minutes early for my doctor’s appointment. At 11 am. On Wednesday. The 6th.

Matt: You got there 48 hours and 15 minutes early…overachiever.