January, the Cruel Beast

There is an advantage to knowing that, barring any disaster, the worst week of your year, nay, the worst month, approaches.  However, there is no preparation other than resignation and a wish for it to be over. This is how I feel about January.  It is a feeling not unlike the phobic individual experiences when cresting the hill of the seemingly90-story drop of a roller-coaster, looking out and down, and knowing there is nothing other than the divine hand of some lunatic god that will stop the juggernaut from falling.  That drop is going to happen and you are going with it, barring something even worse.

You can clench your stomach, close your eyes, scream until you spit out a vocal cord, and/or defecate in your seat, but you're going down.

January is the worst of the worst at work.  I won't say why, but it's a predictable tidal wave of work, a time of huge influx and which almost no amount of planning can siphon into sanity.  It is a month where management is made of sharp edges, bile, and flames.  They stalk, fret, and all but explode with this anxiety.  They force on average 15 hours of overtime per grunt per week.  Weekends are reduced to a single day of forced merriment and relaxation before the roller coaster crests that hill again.

My team is set to explode.  Due to the exceptionally poor planning skills of our supervisor, we are coming off over a week of constant vacation time where no more than three people out of eight have been working.  The backlog is a ghastly thing to behold.  Going into our busiest month, this promises to be nothing but pain, clawing, and probable infighting.

I've been through it before, and I survived.  I will do so again.  I am secure in this knowledge.  It doesn't mean I like January any more.  I will have little life, will become a stranger to my friends, I will consume copious amounts of caffeine, I will jealously guard every second away from work, I will read plenty of David Sedaris, and I will watch South Park and Sailor Moon.  Escapism at its best and most deranged.

This year, I have to pack in January, too as  I will be moving apartments at the beginning of February.

I love roller coasters, but I hate January, so the analogy is a little off, but if you can imagine horror at the end of the slope...

Like this, but with a lake of lava instead of a loop.

Wish me luck!  *faint*