The Nighttime of the Year

I live in Georgia
so this is not at all
what February looks like,
but spiritually, we're there.

February is a great month.  I didn’t used to think so, because it’s cold and grey and barren.  But now I love it; I love that the world is sleeping.  I love the darkness and the stillness and even the crappy weather, because I love the idea that there is a “night” of the year, where everything is tucked in bed so it can get up again in the spring.  It’s a time that the whole world (hemisphere, whatever) is pulling back, pulling in, reflecting, resting.  I know the weather is garbage, and I really do mean that so severely—I hate being cold more than I hate being hungry.  But I love the whole dark, huddled concept of it. 

Plus it’s Black History Month, which is amazing.  Harriet Tubman has long been my personal hero and if I ever poop a baby out, I will name it Harriet, and pray that I raise it in the spirit of courage, integrity, and beauty that that soul was on this earth.  The list of people that are celebrated this month is deeply, profoundly inspiring, and should remind us of how many people are still overlooked.

Which is why it is so weird that here we are in February, but the yard is blooming, the mosquitoes are out, it’s light til 8:30 pm, and it’s May.  Wtf.

Like, no kidding, what the eff, how is it May, because it’s not.  It’s NOT. 

And yet it is!

I understand the concept of “the days are long but the years are short,” but this is patently ridiculous. 

I use an alarm on my phone that sounds
 like birds chirping and now that the
birds are back in town, I do constant
 double takes wondering why my
phone is waking me up.
This does not help with the
"knowing where you are in time and space"
 situation.  (It's a situation.)

I was there when the time change happened, I hear the birds chirping literally as I type this, I even went on a beach vacation.  But it doesn’t make any sense.  

I have been busy, Reader, very busy, doing important things like growing my biome army and going to nerd LARPs and pretending I was getting my diet in order and basically trying to get through my weeks in the hopes that I actually might get enough sleep on the weekend, and the whole time, TIME has been happening.  Just willy-nilly!  Very as-you-like-it, and washing brazenly forward while I have been too busy to notice!

This is ridiculous!

My plants have noticed.  The seedlings that are living under the grow light in the guest room are very clear that on their timeline, they are no longer seedlings and are too big for their nursery-britches.  Which is rude, since I’m pretty sure I planted them, like, yesterday.   (On my to do list for this

To be clear, I am the fuzzy one in the back.

evening was to put them in the ground finally butttttttttt liiiiike I’m so tired of moving and so happy to sit still on this one unscheduled night, surely they can wait?  Except tomorrow night I am babysitting, and the next night is a nerd meeting, and so maybe Thursday, but Friday and Saturday there are both things, plus I’m babysitting again Saturday and Sunday, so they’re probably going to have to be smothered by my motherly inability to let them grow up for another week.  Then they’re going to want to get their driver’s license or bring a crush over and I will absolutely lose my mind.)

I mean, tax day happened, right?  I was there, I know.  And like a true adult I actually did them at the very most last minute instead of filing for an extension like I usually do, not because I have complicated taxes but because I just figured I would get it done on time and then, I just didn't.  But this year I did!  I actually did the thing when the thing was supposed to be done (barely)!  All together that just leaves me feeling very much ahead of the game, since tax day is in the middle of April and it is DEFINITELY STILL FEBRUARY. 

Yup.

People have said that this is a common side effect of getting old—time feels like it’s going faster.  But that doesn’t make sense either since even though I am turning 38 in like…hours….I am definitely still about 32, and that’s not really very old.  Old enough to be adult, but not some sort of “I have the wisdom of ages” adult.  I don’t.  I don’t have the wisdom of ages and I don’t like this slippery slope of time-rushing we seem to be on. 

I think I’ve done a perfectly reasonable job of filling my days with things I am happy of doing, and maaaaaybe overfilling a few of them, plus the weekends, plus I don’t go to bed on time, but that’s just good time management—YOLO, etc.  But the idea that time has actually been passing while I’ve been at all this it is disorienting and abrasive. 

So.  Rude.

I feel like I woke up from a dream that I was awake.  You’ve done that, right Reader?  Where when you actually wake up it’s super disappointing because that wasn’t real sleep, that was some sort of pre-sleep, and in your dream you were low key really looking forward to going to actual sleep and getting good rest?  Then suddenly the alarm is going off and your crappy unsatisfying sleep is just all you get?  

That is what realizing it is May is like. 

There have been periods of my life where I have wished time away.  I don’t recommend it, but everything isn’t sunny and kittens all the time.  Even the year gets dark for a whole season.  So there have been stretches where I just wanted it to be later, and as it turns out, I always knew where we were on the calendar during those times.  And now that I have the energy to enjoy my days I have no idea where they went or how it is actually spring, really early summer, what is going on. 

These are not the protest sweaters of my resistance.

I don’t regret how I’ve sent my time. I do resent that it is spent.  2018 is clearly a make-believe year but the rest of the world won’t get on that tip, and it’s too warm to wear protest-sweaters.  Maybe I resent that it was spent and I wasn’t paying close enough attention.  But how are you supposed to pay attention when you’re busy living, and also you have to work and babysit tomorrow?  Why aren’t days 36 hours long so there is some built in introspection time?  What is even happening?

Dear Ancient Wizards of the Earth,

I’m so flattered you’re reading my blog, thanks, love-you-mean-it.  Sorry if my brisket post was a little fast and loose with your innate esteem.  I am but a mere mortal, who surely isn’t fast approaching 40, so how could I know better?  Also I took my cues from the internet. 

If you, or perhaps Dr. Strange,

No spoilers, Reader.

could just swing by and explain time to me, that would be great.  I will, in return, fill your afternoon with my youthful exuberance, which stereotypes have taught me fills old people with some sort of exhausted joy.  Don't look at my grey hairs.  I will also happily pour you some kefir- you are wise (old?) enough to be concerned with your mortal coil, so I assume that kind of thing matters to you.  Plus it’s delicious once you get used to it.  Anyway, do come by—I will expect you early March, which honestly could be whenever, none of this makes sense to me anymore.

Hugs and kisses,

Me

I think it'll work, Reader,  I'll let you know.