Three days ago heralded the beginning of September. Does that also mean the beginning of Fall, of a Fall approach to doing, seeing or comprehending things?
Don't try to reach to far to locate where my logic comes from (I honestly am not certain where, either), but I've always found it easier to tie in events or schedules to beginning of seasons. For example, this month, September. I associate it with the arrival of Fall, back-to-school, the introduction of the Fall T.V. season line-up. Or December-- holiday shopping season, a further drop in temperature, men in red velour suits standing at street corners, ringing a bell, time to contemplate (in a big hurry) what gifts to get my son this year, that could top the previous year.
But I veer from my original train of thought. I just believe it to be a neater, niftier package, easier to keep track of, when everything occurs on that one designated day: first of the month. Yeah, yeah, I know, my odd mind at work. I can imagine everyone else just fretting at all the deadlines to be met on that one day.
They could be right. What would one do all the other twenty-seven to thirty days left in that month. Everyone would be antsy.
Plus can you imagine Christmas Day falling on the first of December? People would become positively mutinous.
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