Every March

Maybe it’s something about March. When the ice is gone  but the gray remains, the cold bites at your neck because you forgot to wear a scarf because it’s sunny — but upon closer inspection it’s that weak-ass sun piped in like tinny elevator muzak, the only cut-rate sun they could find and are trying to foist off on us like the Cabbage Patch my mom got me one Christmas that only had one shoe and was a boy doll, besides.  

To me the most important holiday in March is First Nice Day. I know, I know, there’s St. Patricks Day. But First Nice Day is a Chicago holiday that doesn’t exist on any calendar, and usually someone on Clark St. hangs out the window of a second-story apartment and plays banjo and I don’t need to wear a coat.  This year on First Nice Day I took a long lunch hour and walked over by the train tracks.

Now it’s back to regular March, and it’s enough to bottom me out. I feel like the prisoner in those movies who was given a bit of meat (a little bacon this time) in the usual gruel, just for added torture. If I indulge in extra existential crises, am cranky from too much or too little coffee, look at you with weary resignation instead of empathy, write in my journal a lot, stay in bed a little longer than average… well, it’s March.

4 thoughts on “Every March

  1. I seriously believe this is the best post you have ever written.

    Could be that I relate so well I feel it inside, but I think it’s more than that.


  2. In Kenosha, there’s a drive in restaurant called Big Star that is only open during the summer. Without fail, Big Star opens on First Nice Day and the following week it snows. This year, it actually opened in February where we had that little bit of a heat wave. What happened the next week? Bitter cold and snow. It never fails.

  3. I feel you on so much of this, but for me that month is February. At least now we have more light in the evening! But yeah…it will be nice when shorts and tank tops are the orders of the day. PLEASE LET IT BE SOON.

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