I have a well-documented history of spending February indoors avoiding people and neglecting my creativity. I watch movies, play video games and berate myself for watching movies and playing video games rather than writing magnum opus blogs and an album.
That the month is bisected by my dating anniversary with E – now eight years – doesn’t help matters. In fact, sometimes the intersection of anniversary with my shut-in status just re-emphasizes my desire to live the rest of my life as a hermit.
If January is for resolutions, February is for malaise and self-hatred. I’m not sure if it’s a Virgo thing, but it’s as reliable as the sunrise.
It helps my hermit case that I’ve just now shaken the remainder of a nasty bought of possible laryngitis. Also, our block remains under sixish inches of ice, and getting anywhere in the city has required about a mile walk to a reliably non-detoured form of public transit.
Happily, this year I pulled myself away from Netflixing through Lost and playing Creeper World long enough for a Valentine’s brunch with E at one of my favorite upscale pubs, Nodding Head, where we were serenading by the jazz stylings of one of my favorite musicians, Alexandra Day.
So, there’s my one social engagement for the month. There are ten days left, and I am already chalking them off as lost. Maybe if I can embrace the vast nothingness of this awful month then I can find some small delight in any minor progress I make as a person from within its icy grasp.