Ode to January

Photo by Jodie Walton on Unsplash

January sucks.

Let’s face it. January is the undisputed, all-time, undefeated champion of “Worst Month of the Year.” Nobody’s all like, “I really can't wait for January!” Or “Remember that great time we had in January!?” It’s more like, “Shit… it’s January.”

To be fair to January, it’s easy to get upstaged by December, with its holidays, gift giving, and days off work. Sure, there’s an end-of-year push for some, but December is mostly about slacking off, shopping online while you pretend to work, getting drunk at office holiday parties, and eating that entire Harry & David gift basket from a vendor you forgot you do business with—then ending it all with a week-long vacation. Not bad.

We go from “the most wonderful time of the year” to the calendar equivalent of the Mojave Desert. From the very start of the month, after the balls drop, the champagne pops, and the resolutions are made, New Year’s Day marks the tipping point into the death march that is January.

In December, winter is still a novelty with the magic of the first flakes of snow. In January, you just want winter to end but know you have three more months of it. Your feet are cold, your lips are chapped, and you vow, yet again, to move to someplace warmer.

In December, you indulge in an orgy of consumerism with more presents than you know what to do with. In January, you’re waiting 45 minutes in line to return that shirt you can no longer stuff your fat ass into.

In December, you have a built-in excuse for anything you’ve been procrastinating—“Sorry, didn't have time to get to that over the holidays! :-)” In January, no one gives you any slack, including yourself. All the crap you didn’t want to do in December gets punted to January. There’s nothing on your to-do list that you actually want to do. All the fun stuff is already taken.

In December, you feast on roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and cheese fondue like you’re in a Dickens novel. In January, you gag down kale, Impossible™ burgers, and chia smoothies like you’re training for the Olympics.

In December, for those who celebrate Christmas, you’re decorating trees, drinking hot chocolate, and listening to carols. In January, you’re dumping that tree like you’re getting rid of a dead body. Sawing off limbs. Scattering pine needles everywhere. Throwing it to the curb. Like you’re cleaning up a crime scene.

In December, you gorge yourself on yule logs, English toffee, and Danish kringles with no guilt and a smile on your face. In January, your pants don’t fit. Not even your “fat pants” fit. You purge your refrigerator and cabinets of the remaining holiday goodies, wondering how you ate an entire tin of Peppermint bark without remembering it.

In December, the stores are filled with festive decorations, perfect gifts, and happy shoppers. In January, the local mall looks like a FEMA disaster relief site. Every gift you just paid full price for a month ago is now marked down 80% and piled haphazardly on a table that looks like a dumpster. The Island of Misfit Toys in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was inspired by a Macy’s on January 3rd.

In January, shit gets real in the business world too. Annual budgets are due. Goals for the year are set. Signatures in blood are expected for commitments you have no idea if you can hit. The layoffs your company didn’t want to do around the holidays happen in January. The annual bonuses paid out at the end of the year are replaced by performance reviews in January. Your calendar is jam-packed with day-long planning meetings in January. Apart from MLK Day, there are no vacations, no breaks, nothing to look forward to, except the month eventually being over.

Little known fact: in the original Julian Calendar, January actually had 65 days, because that’s how long Roman mathematicians thought the month lasted. If you have a birthday in January, first off: I’m sorry. But at least you get to look forward to something in this godforsaken month, even if you can’t convince anyone to come to your birthday party because they’re on a 30-day juice cleanse.

The guilt, regret, and bad decisions you managed to suppress through the holidays all smack you upside the head in January. Resolutions to lose weight, get organized, or save money are made then abandoned before the end of the month. January is a never-ending shame-spiral with no end in sight. So this year, my New Year’s resolution is just to get to February.