I’ve never been a fan of Valentine’s Day, even though red is SO my color. Not just because I’m bitter and I’ve been single for nearly 7 years, I just don’t like the pressure. If a girl comes home empty-handed to a guy on Valentine’s Day, it’s all good in the hood. If a guy comes home empty-handed on Valentine’s Day, HOLD ON TO YOUR FUCKING HATS. That’s not fair.
BTW… As I’m writing this, a uterine contraceptive commercial is playing.
Now a match.com commercial is playing. (True story. I swear on my birth control pill.)
Thanks, universe, I get it.
The moral of my story is that I’m happy as a clam. (Is that a saying? I feel like I’ve heard it, but I’m not sure. It doesn’t make sense, but I swear I’ve heard it.)
I know people say that, and (truth be told), I usually want to punch those people right in the larynx, but I really am. I look back on so many douchebags that I’ve dated. Guys that picked the rice off of their sushi (true story), guys that wore really deep v-necks, guys with alcohol problems, and guys with lack of alcohol problems. No thanks.
Instead, I get to have a wonderful life with people I love who make me smile and laugh and have adventures with. I’m really lucky.
When I do get a man in my life, besides the man who lives on the other side of my wall and likes to sleep walk around the apartment and into my bedroom, I will hope that he does something for me on any ol’ day of the year because he wants to. That would mean more to me that on a day where society and Hallmark tell you you’re supposed to. So Valentine’s Day can take it’s pre fix menus and shove them. XOXO.