Valentine's delight.

I wanted to write this very enthusiastic post about Valentine ’s Day this year and start with a snarky remark á la ‘only single people complain about Valentine’s…’, but I actually lost all interest. Can you tell that the headline is dripping in sarcasm? Maybe I should have stuck with a re-run of last year’s post, which I thought actually summed things up quite nicely and my cupid picture just made me laugh again. But here we go… Yesterday started well enough with a little present from one of our hotel contacts – exactly the right amount of heart-shaped cheesiness I can enjoy. Due to a lack of proper boyfriend material in prior years I had made very sure that this year would be different.

Since men tend to complain that women never say what they really want, I spilled it out to Ian: I want to do something nice with you on Valentine’s Day. Meanwhile thinking: I don’t care if you don’t want to as I will give you chocolates and wear red underwear to make up for it in return.

Guys, this just is the deal for V-day. Get over it.

Ian got over it, at least in mind. Unfortunately his stomach didn’t agree. Of course I was teasing him he did it on purpose to wiggle out of it. Apparently not. There was champagne and take away sushi on the beach planned, but instead I ran salt cracker and Panado errands and had a semi-sleepless night due to a bed too small for two grown-ups who don’t want to lie on top of each other due to sickness. So here I sit today, grumpy, tired, and my cold again in full force trying to convince myself that Valentine’s is in fact overrated to manage the disappointment. Who am I kidding?

So instead of leaving this post on a clever note, I am kindly asking you to share your misery if you also had a crappy Valentine’s. If you were all lovey-dovey and bubbly and happy – great for you! – but please don’t tell me.

P.S. Am I the only one who thinks it weird that even my ink cartridge supplier wishes me a happy Valentine's??