Two months ago, I was jumping up and down with excitement. The Chinese New Year was upon us, and the new year looked very promising. I didn't cut my hair. I was careful to sweep towards me, I gave out candies.
I'd like to return this new year, and I want my money back. So far, this has been a yucky eight weeks. My dad, my sinuses and my eye, my friends' families (a few of you, I might point out), frozen pipes, horrible weather. Pressure, pressure, pressure.
THIS is good stuff? Someone in the astrology department was drunk when they wrote up the predictions.