The Ides

The Ides, they are upon me. Happens every year, from late February through the greening of late April. I have kicked the hell out of depression in my life, but I haven't been able to kick seasonal depression. March is the epicenter: the warming sun and the icy wind, the blinding bright sky and the painful contrasting shadows, the filthy exhaust-laden snow...and then the brown, the all-pervasive technicolor of bare lawns (what can be seen beyond those stubborn snow piles, of course), the brown and bare tree limbs... I am more happy, stable, balanced and optimistic then I have ever been. But the Ides still kick my ass. I shall do my best to remain the font of cupcakes and roses that I am, but it's gonna be a tough slog...