Ugh, January

I really, really don't like January. I'd say I hate it, except that seems a little strong a word.
January is the worst month for me - right up there with November in the suckage, except that November at least has Thanksgiving and the anticipation of Christmas. January has none of that.
There's this:
Gray skies.
Bare trees.
Dry grass.
Bitter cold.
And the knowledge that another month and a half of winter waits.

January is knowing that you've made some progress, but not nearly as much as you'd like. It's like waking up thinking it's Friday only to discover that it's Wednesday - not even close.

I know I'm not alone in this craptacular winter feeling, but it sure feels that way sometimes. My skin is peeling, my hands cracking and bleeding - no matter how much cream I rub into them with obsessive care, my eyes are dry and itchy, and I can seem to warm my toes at all.
But the worse part is that heaviness, the lethargy, the feeling that I'm suffocating under the weight of too much gray.... I just don't feel like myself; I don't feel quite as alive.

January.

What a let down.

Throw in the fact that I just got back from Puerto Rico two weeks ago, and you can see why I'm feeling this way.
Gosh, I miss it. Miss it so much. I miss the sun, of course, and the sweet air, thick with humidity. I miss the walk to the bakery, the warmth of family and friends that might as well be family. I miss the closeness and the chill vibe of Latino culture with that healthy dose of Puerto Rican bravado. I miss speaking Spanish, I miss coquís at night, I miss the warm rain in the day - especially the times it rains while the sun's still out. Man, I miss PR. Here's the thing - no place has ever felt as consistently like home to me as Puerto Rico does. It's been the only constant place in my nomadic life.

Place means something to me in a way that I can't even explain. I refer to time periods by place. Ask me when something happened and I'm more likely to tell you a place than a year. "When did you graduate from middle school?" - "When I was in Illinois." Yeah, that's a time to me.... But the point is, that right now, when I feel less anchored to geographic place than ever before, Puerto Rico is that one place that I can hold onto. It's the thread that's run through my whole life - the place where all time lives.

Man, I miss Puerto Rico. Especially in January.