Yet another Valentines Day has rolled around ... my LEAST favorite holiday of the year.
It's another day for those of us terminally single people to feel oh-so-good-about ourselves by watching everyone else get flowers and talk about what wonderful things they are doing for their Valentines evenings. Personally, I think it's over-compensation on the part of the larger part of our society, but it still makes the rest of us feel somehow less than the rest. Exclusivity, and I hate exclusivity.
I started hating the holiday in high school during those awful popularity contests called CARNATION SALES. The student body would sell carnations, and there was always one or two girls that seems to haul home a literal truckload of carnations. I, maybe, received one. And the year that I actually had a nice little bouquet? My cat ate the heads off every single one while we slept in the night!
Yep! That seems fitting.
Here's my big issue with the stupid day: If you want to tell me how much you love and appreciate me, why not do it ANY day of the week? Why does it have to be a prescribed day that EVERYONE must show some grandiose gesture that seems a bit too contrived?
What are my exciting plans?
I am going to my Weight Watchers meeting, wherein I will more than likely break the scales because I've overindulged in Valentines frivolity, due to my overcompensation in not having a special someone to shower me with love and affection. Then I will go home and attempt to see if I can break last night's record on the number of Kleenexes I can fill in an evenings time.
Happy Stinkin' Valentines Day....