Oh, look. It's snowing. Again. Thank you, January, for underlining that point.

In red Sharpie.

Twice.

It seems like this January lasted for eighteen years, don't you think? It was a month of snow, more snow, even more snow, couple of illnesses thrown in for good measure, oooooooh one nice day! and then more snow. This wasn't January in New Mexico, this was January in the northern territories of Canada.

I've never been partial to January. It starts out with a hangover and descends into the hell of a level 5 clean room, what with the cold and the lists of resolutions and packed away Christmas decorations. Used to be the Super Bowl was the one bright spot at the end of January, but they've moved that to February and now there's nothing except 31 days of blah. January is spent knocking around a cold house, clutching lukewarm cups of coffee, muttering about the heating bill and waiting for a spring which is never going to come.

February has the virtue of being short and sweet. Twenty-eight days -- a civilized length of time in the dead of winter -- where we celebrate weather-predicting rodents, love, presidents and Black History Month, with Bill Murray movies, candies, sales and elementary kids hearing "I Have a Dream" for the first time ever. Who doesn't love February?

God, I'm ready for February.