Roses in January

January is by far the worst month.

I suppose it's not it's fault. It does follow Christmas, and everything is a letdown after Christmas. And it's in winter, which is a time of year hardly anybody likes. And it's named after Janus, the two-faced Roman god of choices. Choices are hard. Go away, choices.

When I was in sixth grade, my mom took me to buy new church shoes in January. Over her protests that they did not match my church outfits, I chose red Sunday shoes. I thought the color would counteract the gray of January. As I've gotten older, I've continued to combat January by wearing a red coat, a turquoise coat, brightly colored gloves and scarves.

In spite of my efforts, January remains the worst.

Last week, I'd had it up to here with January. (Please envision me holding my hand high above my head). I just wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep until spring. (Please envision me as a bear, one of God's creatures for whom it is acceptable to hibernate. It is not acceptable for humans to hibernate. I think this is a huge problem with our society.)

Then one day, I came home to find this lovely sight:

The Seamstress had brought home beautiful orange roses and placed them on my teal January tablecloth (the tablecloth is another effort to thwart the worst of all months).

That night, before I went to bed, I spent a considerable amount of time admiring the roses. It didn't take long for me to start thinking of them as a symbol.

When you're an English major, they spend a lot of time trying to get you to think in symbols aka looking at something and seeing something else entirely. This has no application in real life, and, in fact, outside of a classroom is commonly known as over-thinking--something that complicates people's lives endlessly and has never brought any joy to anyone.

Anyways, I looked at the roses, and I saw a lot more than roses. I saw a bit of spring in winter and hope in hopelessness. I saw life in the midst of death and positivity in negativity. I saw a reminder that some of the best moments of my life came in the middle of some of my worst experiences and that good things happen even in a stupid month like January.

Much cheered, I headed off to bed.

Another of the side effects of January is that it's cold, which means we have space heaters in our apartment. These heaters have been known to trip the apartment breakers when used unwisely.

This was one of those moments. As I was finishing up my nightly tasks, the breaker tripped and the lights went out.

ME: It sure is difficult to find what you're looking for in the dark. It's much easier when there's light...wait a minute. Do you think-?

ALSO ME: No. No more symbolism. Just go to bed.