Dear Leap Year

To be completely honest, I feel sorry for you.  As far as special days go, you have gotten gyped. Christmas blows you away by an incomparable margin. In fact, I’m thinking groundhog days may have gotten more press this year.

You are an oddity.  No one really knows what to do with you. Do we party in your honor? Does one shoot off fireworks in praise of this “stuck in the middle of four-year cycle” day? I cannot recall any “Happy Leap Year” banners on the school grounds when I was a kid.

I’ll tell you who likes you, Leap Year, those strange folks born on February 29.  Odd ones they are.  How old are they really?  10 or 40? Do they celebrate February 28th or March 1st? Poor souls. The maximum ripoff.

Today I figured out that every February 29th, I basically work for free. So to compensate, I took an extra coffee break on this extra day.

While you are not my favorite day, there are days I like less. I hate the day that Wayne asks me to help with a project, like building something. I really hate days I have stomach virus. They are the worst. Bad hair days or fat days? I’d rather spend the day with you Leap Year.

You are no Christmas, heck, you aren’t even a decent runner-up for Halloween. But for a diversion on a rainy Wednesday in February, you’ll do. See you in four years.

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