Keep reading for more late breaking news from Captain Obvious such as grass is (generally) green, the sky is (sometimes) blue, and an artichoke is a vegetable (with a heart).
Seriously, I decided to inform you that March has blown into our lives because I needed a reminder. In spite of my advanced age, every year around, let’s say, Feb. 22, a similar scenario takes place. Someone – this someone can be me – will mention that a professional or personal deadline is looming in March. After reviewing the calendar, I will then exclaim, “Oh, my God! March is literally next week!”
This happens every expletive year. It’s not like I forget that February has only 28 or (occasionally) 29 days. Indeed, I find February’s length (generally) beneficial. Since it’s exactly four weeks long, it’s easy to count off and know what date certain events will occur in March. For example, I’m writing this on Feb. 28. Without consulting a calendar, I know that March 28 will also take place on a Sunday.
So, what’s the issue?
The heck if I know.
You would think that two or three days wouldn’t make much of a difference, but you would be wrong. On the other hand, on April 29, I don’t (usually) exclaim, “The day after tomorrow is May!”
So, why is February/March different?
Could it be tied to the season? Perhaps we (and by we, I mean me) are still in an extended post-holiday mode and not thinking clearly. It’s like we (me) just finished celebrating with Baby New Year and all of a sudden, we (me) realize it’s almost time to break out the green attire and hang out with St. Patrick.
Or could it have something to do with the weather? Perhaps we (again, I mean me) are covered in coats and blankets and worrying about the electric bill and ice storms, so we allow pesky little things like the month of the year to slip our shivering minds. Having never lived in Australia, I can only speculate as to whether March sneaks up on folks who live in a fiery February.
Or could it be none of the above? Perhaps I really do make similar exclamations about April and August, but they don’t make as much of an impact because by that point in the year I’m tired. Heck, I probably make similar exclamations dern-near every week of the year as in, “Oh, my, God! The day after tomorrow is Thursday!”
This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.