I once dreamed the unimaginable. Or is it dreamt? My notepad doesn’t give you green, squiggly “oopsie lines” afforded by the more tech-savvy computer types.

I digress.

My dream was a fight that many labor advocates had taken up, but few had ever leveraged it to the light of day. My dream was surreal, but it was a dream that I nevertheless advocated for for the better part of two decades.

This month the dream was realized. This month, I am the proud owner of a work hammock.

Before you seethe with jealousy, I will be quick to tell you that all dreams contain trace amounts of nightmare…

I found it at a yard sale – frame and all – for the nifty price of $6.00. Being just a block from the office, I drug that sucker clear down the street, all the while praying that it would fit inside inside my tiny work quarters.

Thankfully, it just squeezed in.

Excited, and in full view of my secretly envious co-worker, I lunged, butt-first towards my nirvana net.

The zen I was about to achieve did not last, as I overshot the center of the hammock, landing instead on the far edge.

Apparently, it is important to land dead center, as the full weight and momentum of my carcass sent me straight to the floor, my leg striking the support bar below.

I assured my co-workers that I was fine, but quietly remained on the floor for another 20 minutes, pushing the door closed with my foot so they could not see how hurt I was.

The work hammock and I have since made up, but just know that if you have a seemingly unobtainable dream, you have to be prepared to experience both highs and lows.

Graphic by Clara Kight

By Mike Mallow

(To the Tune of The Circle of Life)
From the day we arrive in Pennsylvania,
And freezing, wait for the sun.
There’s more shadows to see,
Will they even been seen?
What to do when more Winter comes?
There’s far too much pressure to take in here.
More eyes on something that can never be found.
But the sun rolling low, casting not a single shadow.
Keeps us watching, wanting less snow on the ground.
It’s a circle of hype…

I get it – Winter is a mundane experience. It seems as a counter to the blandness and depression we experience in the stillness of the season, society tries desperately to throw every obscure holiday at it they can.

These days can range from the popular and poignant – such as Valentine’s Day, to the abstract and absurd, like Public Sleeping Day or Eat Ice Cream for Breakfast Day (which I personally refer to as Saturdays).

One of the holidays that leans more towards the absurd is Groundhog Day, which has maintained popularity for generations. It’s so ingrained in American culture that no one seems to stop and question its greater “what the heck” aspects.

Groundhog Day remains the product of a baffling superstition. The Pennsylvania Dutch believed that this critter emerging to see its shadow (or not) in the dead of Winter could somehow predict how much bad weather remained. As if the whistle pig’s decision could manage to accelerate the rotation of the planet’s tilt.

So what is it with these monotone badgers – these overweight ground squirrels – these Punxsutawney porcupines – that make perfectly reasonable people dress in tuxedos and top hats and stand out in the cold in early February?

It works.

For a brief moment we get to forget about the bitter cold to affix our attention to a rodent that may or may not have supernatural climate powers. Either way, it gives us a moment of hope that warmer days are coming, and on occasion, that’s exactly what happens.

It at least gets us on to the next holiday. Public Sleeping Day is Feb. 28, by the way — for those of you who have given up on the season entirely, and would like to give hibernation a try.