“April is the cruelest month” is the well known opening of T.S. Eliot’s classic poem, The Wasteland. Although it supports the theme of the important literary work, I don’t agree with the sentiment of the phrase. April is actually one of my favorite months, my birth month, and thirty days of lovely spring weather, the beginning of patio season, and an explosion of color in the garden. January, on the other hand, IS the cruelest month of all for me. I dread it every year. The end of the holiday season has always been difficult for me. My over-the-top love of Christmas adds to the January let down. New Year’s…