Today is the twenty-ninth of February, that elusive day that comes around every four years. It just so happens to always coincide with the years of our presidential elections, which means one more day of campaigning, one more day of whining, and one more day of political punditing.
You can Google® Leap Year and find out why we need this extra day every so often to keep our calendar straight, so I won’t repeat the explanation here. But I shall say I really like the extra day. It’s similar to the end of Daylight Savings Time, only on steroids. You don’t just get an extra hour; you get twenty-four of them. You can make them count, sleep them away, or do a half-and-half sort of thing.
This year, I packed a ton of things into Leap Day. Finished my piano practice by 8 AM; met my trainer at 10:30 AM; had a meeting with an illustrator at Noon; caught up on my ironing; and saw my doctor for my annual physical. Now it’s only 6:30 PM, so I plan to spend the evening reading and eating pizza. What better way is there to celebrate a calendar correction?
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