I’m so glad that February is over. On to warmer weather, less pain and fatigue, and the backyard getting some color back. February has been my least favorite month for as long as I can remember. I’m not such a fan of August, but that’s because it mostly feels worthless: another horrible month of summer to get through that makes summer one month too long. But February is even worse than August because it’s another horrible month of winter, cold and dark and windy and (here, at least) dusty. At least I’m not stuck under two feet of snow.
I was outside earlier and the forsythia I planted this past winter is just beginning to bloom. I mean, just beginning. They’re bare twigs with tiny green buds. That made me feel a spark of optimism. I can’t wait until they bloom. I planted them because they bloom early in the year (and where I live, blooms early in the year don’t give you a false hope) and they’re such a beautiful yellow. I don’t have the best luck in keeping things alive–the drought and the heat of summer in the desert make it hard–but I’m really going to try to keep those bushes going.
I don’t mind saying that the past few weeks have been the worst I’ve had in a while. It hasn’t been the pain so much as the fatigue these past few days. But, you know, the little aches and pains have been plaguing me, too. I think the sinus problems have contributed to that–sometimes the cure to a sinus headache is a good long nap. But I’ll be so glad to put the cold behind me. March days tend to have the perfect temperature and as long it’s not blowing dust around, the days are wonderful to live through.
I hope I’m not being blinded by my optimism. Fibromyalgia makes me a little cautious about pretty much everything and my nature runs to cynical. I probably shouldn’t be singing songs of impending spring–spring will just bring new ways of affecting my symptoms.
Ehh-I’ll just be happy with those tiny forsythia buds.