January Is The Cruelest Month
The soul, by a cheap trick of the calendar, desires rebirth.
Instead, it gets nothingness.
Mocktails and “spirit-free” drinks are never more indicative of their name than they are now, robbing “Dry January” adherents of their moxy, mocking bartenders and service professionals reliant on tips for their survival.
A new fiscal year hastens the end of leases, the anticipation of future costs. Businesses end. Restaurants close. Those that go on reduce their workforces. In Chicago where the brutality of polar vortexes, persistent ashen skies, carjackings, and the threat of the Kraken (Covid-19 variant) looms, drastically reduced business awaits those who survive.
If we look inward, we’d solve our lacking with growth that truly made us better. But, instead because we are iLiving as androids, globally projecting our lives on tiny screens we crucify ourselves in this January moment because we are obligatorily performing for others.