Farewell February, you schizo bitch

Is there another month so completely psychotic and moody as February? When you go from 70 degrees to snow within five days it seems like ol’ Mother Nature has gone off her meds. I welcome the start of March with open arms.

When I first heard about SAD (seasonal affective disorder) I thought it was just another made-up disorder used to justify our society’s long-standing love affair with over-medicating. Apparently those suffering from SAD feel sadness (duh), moodiness, and depression brought on by crappy winter weather and lack of daylight. I was always under the impression that this was simply the winter doldrums and not out of the ordinary. But as the month of February draws to a close and I notice all the irony that encompasses it, I realize that there may be some truth to the definition of SAD. Because as human beings, in the dead of winter we. lose. our. minds. I would like to present to the court Exhibit A: American February Behavior

*Groundhog Day. We look to a jittery irritating rodent being excavated from a hole in the ground by a man in a top hat for assistance in determining our long range weather forecast. Legitimate climatologists and Farmers Almanacs everywhere feel the sting of rejection.

*Valentines Day. Per my earlier blog post, we allow ourselves to feel pressured into showing unusual levels of emotion and financial commitment by the fabricated image of a chubby winged toddler wearing a diaper and brandishing a deadly weapon. As a result people everywhere get drunk, in trouble, sad, engaged, or laid.

*Presidents Day. The ultimate irony. Let’s put aside a day to honor the achievements of a bunch of dead white guys. Nice idea in theory, right? For this one it’s the timing that is tragic. Because while their achievements may have been many, few realize that over a quarter of American presidents (12 of the 43) owned slaves during their lifetimes. Nevertheless, let’s give them a day. During Black History Month.

*The Great Sports Void. After the madness of the first few days leading up the Super Bowl, we enter a dark sports depression. Opening Day, the U. S. Open, NBA and NHL playoffs, March Madness, and the NFL draft are impossibly far off. ESPN and Sport’s Illustrated attempt to fill this tragic sports void with coverage of the Westminster Dog Show and hot chicks in bikinis, respectively. Sports bring us together and give us something to cheer for. The American sports landscape has never looked so bleak.

*Feb. 25th, the start of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I don’t have the time or the energy to fully explore the scope of this one. I’ll limit it to brightly colored floats, costumes, booze, beads, and breasts. The final celebration before Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent, when half the population will repent and live without something of significance for 40 days, and the other half will continue to get drunk on a regular basis but resume judgment of random free-spirited women who choose to flash others in their quest to accumulate plastic beads with no monetary value.

Thank God this is the shortest month of the year. If there is other intelligent life out there looking for us, I sincerely hope they show up in February. They will observe our lunacy and deem us too far gone to warrant making us their galactic slaves. Americans will serve as the de facto defense lawyer for the entire human race, getting us all off by reason of insanity.

Three weeks until St. Patricks Day. Finally, something SANE to cheer for!