NOTE FROM NOVEMBER
To: themonths@theyear.com
Subject: Guess who's depressed?
Dear January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October and December,
Greetings. Remember me? I'm the eleventh month, I come right after October? No? Oh well, I wasn't expecting miracles. No-one ever thinks of me *dramatic sob*, but I'm used to it. I do, however, request that you hear my case. What has everyone got against little old me?
I'll answer that, shall I: it's the weather, isn't it? You all gang up on me because I'm gloomy, cold and wet. Can I *help* that? We can't all be July. I happen to think my weather is rather charming and individual, and grossly underappreciated, if you ask me. Don't hate me because I'm drab. Drabness is what makes me special.
I also can't help feeling just a bit unloved: could I fall at a worse time of year? No-one looks forward to me, oh no, I'm overshadowed by the excitement of Hallowe'en (The appeal of which, I might add, I've never really understood), and does anyone miss me when I'm gone? Do they, heck. When I'm over, it's all, "Right, that's November over and done with - where are the Christmas decorations?". How do you think that makes me feel? Oh, I forgot - you don't think about me at all, do you? I am Utterly Insignificant. Well, thank you very much.
Now, before anyone mentions Bonfire Night and Thanksgiving, may I point out that the 5th of me is the busiest night of the year for the emergency services, and as for my fourth Thursday, well, that seems to me just an excuse for Americans to stuff their faces with turkey and take the day off. I feel ashamed, to be honest. Ashamed and degraded.
And what would you do without me? Have you ever thought about that? The calendar would be completely wrecked, for a start. And what about my gorgeous displays of golden leaves, and refreshing gusts of wind? And don't forget the birthdays of such people as Rug ... what would we do without them?*
Okay, enough about me. Lets get on to what's wrong with all of
you.
JANUARY: New year - everyone drinks too much (and don't get me started
on Auld Lang Syne!)
FEBRUARY: Not enough days (and what the hell is a groundhog, anyway?)
MARCH: Boring name
APRIL: Even more rainy than *I* am!
MAY: Too pleasant for pessimist such as myself
JUNE: Too floral
JULY: Too perfect
AUGUST: Too hot
SEPTEMBER: Not everyone appreciates getting hit on the head by a horse
chestnut
OCTOBER: Okay, whoever thought up Hallowe'en has got some explaining
to do
DECEMBER: Completely commercialised.
I don't mean to be bitchy, I just thought you should all look at things from my perspective for once. I know there are eleven of you and one of me ... but please don't kill me ...
Yours sincerely, your very depressed and misunderstood friend,
November (highgales@alltimes.com)
THE END
*Sorry about that ... I needed an ego boost.