In high school, I called it the third marking period slump. In college, it became the stressful stretch before spring break. No matter what I choose to call it, it remains the same; February sucks my ass, and not in the nice what-was-your-name-again-rimboy way. This month is always marked by an emotional intensity unmatched by the other eleven months of the year. Last year, I chose to deal with it by not going to class.

Yes, for the entire month.

This year I refuse to succumb to it. I am telling the Gordian knots of emotion to take a long walk. At least I'm trying. Take today. I am taking the weekend class from hell, which really isn't so bad as I am taking it with a whole bunch of truly lovely people who I otherwise wouldn't have known (note to those I already knew (especially those with LJ accounts, rachel) I love you too), and one of my classmates read this story about balloons written for kids to help them deal with loss. I had to actively work to not sob. Later in the day I'm hysterically laughing about bleating like a goat.

Yep, February: the land that Happy Medium forgot.

At least there are a few positives for the month. I'm so emotional, I don't give a flying f&^% that at least one of the sentences in the last big paragraph is stylistically, if not outright grammatically, incorrect. That and music is so much more powerful when I feel like this. I think I buy more CDs in February than the rest of the year put together. I've already bought six, and the month is young (and the new Alanis is coming the end of the month!!!).

In related news, the official songs for the month of maudlin are Origin of Love from Hedwig and the Angry Inch and You can sleep while I drive, the Trisha Yearwood and the Melissa Etheridge version.

Well this is not the journal entry I set out to write earlier this evening, but oh well. Let's see if I can pour this excess of emotion into this instead of letting it make a mess of my life.

always love
wart