Last year I was the guy who informed you that the magic of the season had come to a screaming halt on January 2. Some of you still blame me for the close of the holidays. Like I'm the one who made them end and not just the bearer of bad news. I find this mostly unfair, but I've blamed the last 30 winters in Utah on Bob and Cathie so who am I to judge your grudge?

And in true tradition, I suppose I should be the one to call the horror of our collective situation to your collective attention on this January 2.


The two months of magic have concluded and you know what's left? Overstimulated children on a sugar crash and cranky adults who are wondering why anyone ever thought it was a good idea to place 64 over-the-top holidays in a row starting in November, only to be followed by such letdowns as MLK Day, and Presidents' Day, and VALEN-FREAKING-TINE'S DAY.

No offense to MLK and all of the presidents, but they don't give us eleventy days off of work and school, nor do they come with sugar cookies.


Now you're back at the office or wherever it is that your life is supposed to happen during the normal course of the rest of the calendar year. And you're realizing, just like you have for the last twenty or thirty or fifty January 2nds that your long list of tasks didn't celebrate the holidays nearly as carelessly as you did.

And those tasks are now PISSED. And wondering how you could have just forgotten about them like that.

Your gym is going to be jam packed full of people for the next month. Because someone convinced us all that we should attempt the impossible in unison every January so we can all be disappointed at the same time at the end of January rather than stagger the shame in our lack of self-control throughout the course of the year. This is called "resolutions."

And maybe you're one of those people who will only attend the gym for the first three weeks of January. Or maybe you're one of the regular gym attenders who is annoyed that the masses who make it possible for everyone's gym fees to remain so low have decided to cash in on a membership for 21 days that they'll pay for for 365. Either way, January is an annoying month for you.

Because you're exercising.

The snowfall and cold is no longer "charming" and "cozy." It's drying out your skin and you have to drive in it.

School zones are returning with a fierce vengeance.

Your tacky Christmas decorations have turned your house into an episode of Hoarders. But not. Because nobody is going to show up and take it all away for you while talking to you about your feelings.

This one's on you. You and me. We have to deal with the mess that is our life on our own. The people from Hoarders won't help us.

Happy New Year.

Twice up the barrel, once down the side.

~It Just Gets Stranger