There is a reason that February is an F word.

February 21, 2015

Last year, at precisely this time, we had spent our first few nights in our new place with not a stick of furniture but a bed and a kettle for tea.  A big empty apartment, the two (and a half) of us, and an unrelenting series of rainy days.  Reece was looking for a job, sitting hunched over the laptop scanning all the relevant sites and firing off his resume at record speed.  We had some savings, but they were depleting quickly because moving is SO EXPENSIVE.  Its always more than you think it will be.  Always.

It was so stressful, I have to say.  Doing something big and brave and new like moving across the world when you're at a severe disadvantage (way-o prego), that will kind of make your stomach turn with both anticipation and fear in equal measure.  It frustrated me, it terrified me, we ate a lot of frozen pizza and peanut butter sandwiches.  We survived.

Things do feel a lot better this February.  We have eaten only one peanut butter sandwich each so far this month, and we do some weekend joy riding in this big white minivan that we bought (because HELLO: MY NAME IS MINIVAN PERSON).  I would say, all of the things both inward and outward look better than last year.

Because, lets be real, February kind of sucks.  January is the month you think your life is going to change because you're on a high from the week straight you spent at the gym and all the green smoothies and paleo (which I call bullshit - btw- however I shall save that thought for another time) creations involving chicken and asparagus and spinach and steak... But February?  February is the month you realize that there is such a thing as too much iron and... well you've had it.  Also the month when your body's immune system can't take it anymore and you get some virus that has an equal number of letters and numbers in its name.  So, glued to your bed, next to a pile of dirty tissues, paler than the Cullens because there hasn't been sun since the first week of the year - you say a little prayer of gratitude that its only 28 days.

It is with great surprise, now, that I say that February really pulled through in the last week.  Spring came and I'm willing to forgive this awful month for being such a dick last year.  So thanks, February, I don't trust you yet... But for now I am grateful for the couple of days you've let the sun through and the flowers you popped up.  I never stick my nose up at an early spring.  That is just not the type of girl I am.

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