Some people know that I see the year as a cheese grater. It’s not clear why this happened, but it has a very specific shape. January sits at the top, and sliding down the diagonal face to October at the bottom, you are pulled round to December face down, then back up to January again. I imagine this portion of the year as a kind of ski lift.
I went to a prep school run by nuns and it is unlikely that the cheese grater was the product of two misplaced flash cards. The ‘ascent’ to January is not one of redemption. It is actually one of the worst parts of the year, which does not even correspond to my actual feelings about December. The metaphor is terrible in many ways.
May for example, is the designated high point, not January.
It is anachronistic. I strongly picture our family cheese grater, which is not twenty-six years old.
A slide might be better, because the best and fastest bit is roughly in the middle
A year is not a slide to me.