Sunday, January 3, 2016

Last Year: February 2015

February.
Blank memory. Nothing in my calendar. Nothing out of ordinary in my Instagram. I honestly can't remember what the hell I did this month. So this'll be brief. Knowing myself, the most significant thing I probably did was try to avoid any sign of Valentine's Day (always a hairy time for a singleton...though the year before I'd had a date that day and that didn't work out so well either.... Damned if you do, damned if you don't!). I guess I managed to successfully circumvent all V-Day foibles, though, since I don't have any upsetting memories of awkward dates around then... I call that a success.



Wait. Hang on a second. I remember now. There was one thing... I happen to sit next to the girl at work who received a bouquet of the hugest roses I have ever seen that Valentine's Day. These suckers were easily 3 feet tall. A dozen ginormous roses the size of a waist-high bush, sent by her boyfriend "who never does anything romantic like this" (well, he has def stepped up his game now, hasn't he?!). I remember smiling tightly, saying nice things, then spending the rest of the day trying to ignore that massive pink and red love monument propped on her desk, while jealousy smoldered around my heart like hot lava. Yeah, I ignored the occasion that morning and night, but all day, I had her humongous roses looking over me to remind me what a lonely, unloveable, sad-sack I was. I think I went home and inhaled an entire pizza that night, Bridget Jones style.

This is exactly why I always try to be away traveling during V-Day! L'amour c'est pour les autres.

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