"Fish and visitors smell after three days." -- Benjamin Franklin
My wife and I have long joked about our nemesis, January.
January is pretty sure of itself. It knows that everyone wants to see it. It makes December feel bad, especially right after Christmas. I mean, December just gives us a rip-snorting good time with presents and holiday cheer when January starts knocking on December's door, threatening to kick it out.
And when January comes blowing in on the first, evicting December with its songs, toasts and parties, everyone welcomes it with open arms.
"Oh, January, we thought you'd never get here!" they cry.
Those seeking change snuggle sickly up to January: "Oh January, thank you for giving us a second chance."
And January smugly takes in all the attention. Like a politician, it promises much and predicts great things. It smiles and kisses our babies and makes big speeches about good times to come. And, fresh from Christmas, we salivate for more good times that only December can give, and expect second helpings of holiday heapings from January.
But, oh how quickly our devotions change. We start seeing through January's slick promises. We quickly start realizing that January is, in fact, a thief. It kicked December to the curb and didn't expect to get caught. When the taxman comes, we call for January to help us but it's silent. When the one pound we lost on the second turns into three pounds gained on the third, we cry for help. But January turns a deaf ear. When happiness with friends on Dec. 31 turns into heartache over tragedy, we ask why. And January doesn't give an answer.
No, my friends. Here on Jan. 4, we see January for what it is. January is not a team player. January in and of itself does not fulfill one of its shallow promises. January doesn't keep away the trials, pains, hard work and dedication the way it promised. January, really, does nothing.