Beware The Ides of February

While going through my collection of friends’ posts on Twitter, one blurb caught my eye: my friend Stochasticgirl mentioned that she hates February.

February used to be one of my favorite months: it was quick, it brought me lots of candy, and schools still acknowledged Lincoln’s and Washington’s birthdays (two 4-day school weeks in a row!). As I got older, the candy stopped coming, two national holidays got lumped together as “President’s Day,” and the passing of 28 days just meant AP tests were that much closer (or the start of a new semester once I hit college). Suddenly the second month of the year wasn’t as exciting as it used to be.

It may be a bit premature of me to use the statement “Beware the ides of February” because this has been the second year in a row where times have gone to pot (a third year will validate this beyond a reasonable doubt). February, for some reason, crams in as much misery as possible in its short span.

To prove my case:

February 2008:

1. Executive Chef goes out for knee surgery and takes longer to heal than expected. Poorly planned meals across the board.

2. Engineering Director trips on a curb outside of a restaurant and breaks his hip.

3. Secretary next to me falls down and breaks her kneecap. For over 6 weeks I am to work 2 desks.

4. Request for a 5 day vacation in May is denied. I am to find my own replacement, despite the fact that there is another admin in the office (of which I might add, I cover for when she’s on vacation).

5. A friend and co-worker is killed in a car accident.

February 2009:

1. Threat of downsizing is finally real for me, as major departments and positions are being eliminated on the hotel level.

2. Corporate announces it will move HQ to Washington DC. Tension is thick; you’re gonna need a chainsaw to get through this.

3. A good neighbor passed away suddenly from pneumonia. As classic burials go, it was pouring rain at the cemetary.

My Grandma Kay used to swear by the statement “beware the ides of March.” My Grandpa Zeke (Grandma Kay’s husband) and her son Francis both died in the month of March; ironically she passed away in March as well. And three people were enough to get me thinking that there was something behind that statement.

Until February reared its ugly head.

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