I hate January.  It is, without a doubt, the worst time of the year.  The holidays are done, the landscape is coated with snow and ice, my jeans are fitting a little tighter and my vacation is on its last leg.  Bring on the pilates and yoga-fatty here needs some slimming.

Besides the cold, post-holiday blues-you've also got the piles of bills laughing at you from the desk.  Not that the bills aren't there every month, but this month is just ridiculous.  It's called "property taxes".  Honestly now, aren't we paying taxes every time we blink as it is?  Why do I have to pay another chunk at the beginning of every year?

Yes, I know the obvious answers-improving schools/roadways/etc.  But I tell you, the roads here are for shit-and have been since I moved here and the kids, well they are corrupt little bastards in my neighborhood.  I don't really care if they get new math books or use the ones from last year.  I am also not interested in improving my sloppy neighbors sidewalk just so they can leave the ice and snow pile on it next year and bikers and walkers can choose to ignore it and use the streets like they always do anyway.

It's irritating.  And it just builds tension here.  The rest of the year we live fairly comfortably, but for this month-I don't know how we are going to eat, let alone fill our gas tanks to get to work.  I have exactly $7 in cash and $12 in my checking account.  What we do have in our savings is for the first payment on the taxes.  Depressing.  And talk about a marital strain.  Happy fucking New Year.