I hate November. Here’s why.
1) Halloween, the main awesome holiday of life, is over.
2) Next up: all the grody, exhausting, obligation-laden, gluttonous, expensive holidays.
3) SO DARK. I want to go to bed at 6:30. Leave all the dinner dishes out and the kid’s homework undone and just get into my vampire coffin.
4) SO COLD. Usually. There’s no cheerful crispy leaves and sunniness left by the time November shows up.
5) Staring down the barrel at winter. Everything’s dead and ugly. I start to really notice how gross our chain-link fence is. I feel uninterested in almost everything. I start to flutter around the light of the television like a moth. I don’t want to go anywhere, because I’m too lazy to put on foul-weather gear and scrape the windshield. I haven’t built up my winter callus.
6) Thanksgiving is a holiday I would never celebrate if given the choice. Seriously. I know how to make turkey and gravy and I like those things. I just don’t know why you have to do it on ONE DAY and then just sit around feeling fat and bored. I’m an ingrate who’d rather be at home, alone, eating Chinese take-out.
7) Black Friday. Gross.