I have to admit, I love the first of the month.
Not just today, October 1st, but the first day of any month. It has to do with starting over, that heady feeling that old is old and new is new. That just about anything is possible.
New Year's Day is, of course, the big one. Everything clicks over—month, day, year. The holiday wrappings have been balled up and taken to the curb for the trash truck* to haul off. The dastardly leftovers** no longer hog the refrigerator shelves. And the new calendar with a fresh assortment of artwork or bird photos or comic-strip dogs*** is push-pinned to the wall. O all those blank squares yet unfilled, hopeful with promise! More than once have I found myself looking forward to that date, thinking, well, how different (i.e., better, brighter, cheerier) everything will be when the new year comes.
Remember that sticky-sweet saying from Synanon, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life"? Well, let's get real here: optimism for every day is just way too much work. Life throws its chewed shoes, its burnt potatoes. Slipped discs. Cracked mirrors.
But on the other hand . . . if winter's taking longer than usual to clear, and the gray, potato-sack skies have you eating Top Ramen raw out of the package, or if the cidery briskness of early fall has you deep-breathing for renewal, there's no reason to wait until the calendar lines up in its many austere columns. The first of any month is as good as any to begin. Again. Again.
* Yes, yes, I know all about recycling, but the trash truck makes an oh so strong image.
** Oh, of course everyone knows the leftovers are the best part.
*** Sure, go ahead and add "Cowgirl Poets of the Wild West" to the list.
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