November.

My British friends have a phrase for this time of year. They say, “The nights are drawing in”, which I think is lovely. It evokes thoughts of curling up under a soft blanket on the couch, safe and warm in a little pool of light that keeps the dark at bay.

It’s a comforting thought, because November is coming. I hate November. I like the name. I even had a friend who wrote a story with a character named November. But the month? Hate it.

November is a month-long house guest who leaves towels on the floor to mildew, puts spoiled milk back in the fridge, and tells you the twinge in your shoulder is probably cancer. November leaves a sponge full of maggots in the bathroom sink. November trails you around the house in a manky housecoat with suspicious stains on it, telling you monotone-voiced stories about its long-suffering battle with neuralgia. November is patently unpleasant.

In past years, I have countered November’s dank presence in my life by doing NaNoWriMo, and blithely writing a novel in a month. However, this year I know I am too busy, right off the bat. Tuesday and Wednesday, when I leave the house at 7AM and don’t get back til 9:30PM, I am certainly not going to want to work on a novel. So I have decided to do NaBloPoMo, and blog every day in November. Tuesday and Wednesday can be easy entries.

I know that blogging every day will be a challenge, as my life is not so interesting, my worldview is not so political, and my persuasive skills are often limited to thinking, “What a jackass”. So I have a theme. This November I will be blogging about my first times. You know, of doing stuff. Not just having sex. Although that is a pretty funny memory. First car, first job, first kiss. That kind of stuff.

Because the nights are drawing in, and my little pool of light works hard to keep out the dark. And firsts are shiny and new.

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