I'm starting to hate January

Twelve years ago I was at the Dr's for an early morning appointment. I had had a summer job at the Doctors (cleaning) and so the Reception staff knew me well and I didn't even notice anything out of the ordinary when one of them stuck her head out the little window of the reception office and said to me that she just had to pop into see the Doctor before my appointment and could I just sit tight for a few minutes. The next thing I knew my Dad walked into the Doctors and told me that my Grandfather had died.

A year later (to the very day) my Nan's brother died and so did my Gran's brother. Three deaths on one day of the year. I suppose with the number of people in the world and the number of days in the year that it is likely, but it still seemed like that day was cursed to me. Over the next few years more and more people that I knew, that meant something to me died in January. A couple of years ago I was hit very hard when my Gran died on Top Ender's birthday. It just made me think that January (despite being the birth month of both Top Ender and Daddy) was out to get me.

This morning I was in London for a Warburtons Gluten Free Range launch when I saw I had a message on my phone. Daddy had text me to let me know that My Mother-in-Law's 2nd husband had died. I was shocked, we knew he was ill, we knew that he was going to die but we had been told that he had much longer than a few days. I felt cheated and angry and sad and suddenly I remembered that January and I have history.

I'm starting to hate January and now you know why.