This morning I am definitely feeling welcoming of a new month. February had its bright spots but overall, was a tough month. And you get no complaints from me, as we move toward spring and the days lengthen (and March Madness approaches).

March sees the opening of baseball season, with the first pitch being thrown on the 28th when all teams play. (The Mariners and Athletics play in Japan, starting on the 20th — but that just doesn’t feel like opening day.) In Philly, the new season begins with a new player in the outfield — Bryce Harper.

Suddenly the Phillies are serious World Series contenders, and I am confronted with my own hypocrisy. I’ve never been a Harper fan, and I foresee a dramatic turn-around on that front. Since he joined the Nationals I’ve generally thought he was a little full of himself and seemed a potential locker room problem (thinking of when Jonathan Papelbon joined the Phillies). You can expect an entirely different (and equally ‘informed’) take on his character starting today. I share this simply to be honest about my shallowness and lack of core values.

I’m excited to start a new month in my bullet journal, with a set-up that leaves more room for writing. The experimentation is fun and I find myself slowly claiming more space and letting go of the impulses of perfectionism that are so cloying. And again, in the interest of honesty, I have a confession — I have purchased another fountain pen. This time it’s blue, and the nib isn’t just fine, it’s extra fine. (A photo will be forthcoming, I suspect.)

But back to March. There’s that Brexit cliff that the UK seems to be walking toward. Personally, I am rooting for another referendum — one that votes down the EU exit and returns things to a sort of normalcy in Europe. And perhaps such a thing could even be a harbinger of the return of sanity here in the US. One can only hope.

Who knows — maybe, in a burst of alliterative energy, March will bring the Mueller Report. I am heartened by the burgeoning of Democratic oversight. But I am also wearily disheartened by the horrifying disconnect between the GOP and reality. I mean, Donald Trump is so clearly up to his elbows in criminal activity and always has been. Imagine Obama’s name or Clinton’s name attached to any of the headlines about Trump and the howls of outrage we’d be hearing. Our friends in the GOP really do seem to be untethered to any set of values other than the retention of power. They’ve stepped right into Michael Cohen’s shoes and replaced him as the complicit fixers for the orange miasma. It’s disquieting, to put it mildly.

But maybe I shouldn’t be too judgmental. Their hypocrisy, I guess, is not really that different from what you’ll see from me, as I start singing the praises of Bryce Harper, starting on March 28th.