Let Me Go November

Yes, November, the month I hate the most. I really cannot blame it on the month, nor pinpoint it between these 30 days, but more on the time of year than anything else. Days get shorter, Daylight Savings time kicks in, first frost, and the list goes on, however, there are historical facts in my life that have occurred in November that makes this month so unpleasant for me.

Crunchy Leaves of Fall - small image

This was the month when, as a very young child, my family home was destroyed by fire. Although no absolute cause of the fire was officially found, I suspect it had something to do with mischief from one of my siblings at the time–not that I am pointing fingers or anything. November was the time when I went through the great breakup from a relationship that last several years, and involved a promise of marriage, only to find out, after that fact, she had been involved with another man. Sure, it stung, but in the long run I was speared a miserable existence as I heard years later that she had been divorced, and since remarried to husband number two. Then there was the break up of the band that I so loved and enjoyed to be in. For three years, going so far as to write music, recording in a studio, performing at numerous venues in Ontario, when we reached the milestone of seriously signing to an agent and label, the band fell apart. The main reasons were: a shotgun wedding do to not wearing a prophylactic at a gig in Pickering Ontario (bass player); religion, pursuing a woman who was a hard-core “daddies girl” (lead guitar); drugs, and addiction, evolving into a criminal enterprise that followed with some jail time (lead vocals); starting a family, and trying to make the band work, but the family had to take priority (percussionist). Then there was the day my home was robbed in Langley City in November of 1994. I believe that it was my landlord at the time, but I could not prove it. I lost almost everything that day. I still scorn the R.C.M.P. to this very day of being so blind and discretionary; as a young man, I presume, does not rank high on the police priority scale as a victim. The only witness was never questioned until weeks later, and It was not until that I hired a lawyer that both the R.C.M.P., and the Courts took me seriously. But it was too late, what I lost could never have been replaced, and what was found was worthless. Yes, my landlord’s house was searched (from a different criminal event in November of 1995), and some of my belongings were found in his house. The police officer did apologise (when returning my items) for the inability of the justice system to catch this type of criminal and to bring them to justice. I do forgive the police, but not the system.

So you see, November is a low point in the year for me looking back. Though, to be fare, not all Novembers have been dismal: November 2006 was special because that was the time leading up to when I changed careers. I went from a dead-end job at a Big Box retail store, to becoming an academic, working with professionals from Universities in British Columbia. Between 2004 and 2006, I started to take myself seriously, and trekked through one of most ambitious life changing courses that anyone could do: completing and graduating in a degree in University. But on average, in the life of Thomasso, Novembers are not to be taken lightly because statistically the wrath of November can strike–as the Law of Probability dictates, for every flip of the coin, “heads” will say it is so half the time, but the month of November seems to attract more negative energy than the other of the eleven months combined.

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