January always feels very bright, pale blue to me. Almost white. I wouldn’t call that unusual, though I do wonder if people in the southern hemisphere have different color associations for our winter months. When I lived in Bangkok I still thought of January as pale blue and February as darker blue, even though seasons were much less dramatic (and never anything other than hot)…but I think that’s a product of having those associations deepened over 20 years and fixed permanently onto the way I view the calendar in my head.
January makes me feel unproductive, even when I’m not. So do to-do lists, though I can’t give them up. I know that I get anxious if I have tasks unmet, and also get anxious if I’ve crossed everything off–as if there’s nothing in the world to do if it isn’t on my six by four inch sheet for the week. But I like the confines of lined paper and I love crossing things out (January makes me very Heidegger, apparently) so I haven’t stopped.
I’ve been comfort-watching Family Feud on DVR probably every third night and if Steve Harvey asked 100 people what their least favorite month was, February would probably be the number one answer (Family Feud: it’s like a proto- Apples to Apples/Cards Against Humanity; if you want to win (A BRAND NEW FORD FUSION) you shouldn’t think of the best answer, but the one that most people were likely to say; for advanced players, the answer people in Georgia were most likely to say during whatever year the show was filmed (watching reruns from 2010 is DIFFICULT)). I don’t mind February. It’s cozy. Maybe that’s a product of it being “small,” but when we get to February, we’ve almost made it.
November has always been my least favorite month. It’s a dark, dismal gray-brown.
