Won’t you stop breaking my dreams?
Every January, I toss away the fast food bags. I crumple the chips packets into the trash. I plaster a photograph of the treadmill on the wall alongside Kumail Nanjianis chiseled jawline.
What dares stand between me and a glorious six pack?
Nothing.
Nothing, except the sink that flushes hopes of millions, the coffin that holds the shattered dreams of ancestors — the dreaded month of February.
Do you remember what you did in Feb? Perhaps, did you turn the pages of that book you swore to read? Or, did you cook that invigoratingly healthy steamed Iranian couscous? Maybe, did you trade in that cold brew for a hearty hemp smoothie?
Of course no.
It’s February. It’s the month that has broken your resolutions for years. It’s the month that broke your father’s resolutions. It’s the month that broke your great-grandmother’s resolutions.
But, this time, it’s not just any February.
It’s February of 2022.
It’s the year after Kimye’s breakup. It’s the year after Squid Game. It’s the year after the year after covid.
It’s the year you read that book you swore to read. It’s the year you cook that invigoratingly healthy steamed Iranian couscous. It’s the year you grab that hemp smoothie, and jog your belly into a Nanjiani approved 6-pack.
Screw you February.
Sincerely,
@fdgt
