My Mumbling Thoughts

Yesterday I didn't get home until nine o'clock. We had another open house to try and fill up all of these available slots that our company has open and it was a decent turn out. Nowhere near as much that we had originally predicted but good enough to not be a complete failure.

I did my small part to make sure that things ran smoothly, but it turns out that we had more than enough help and I was kind of just standing around like a potted plant feeling out of place.

Somehow, with the little bit of work I did, I found myself exhausted when I got in my car to go home. Mid-February and the air had a bitter chill as if it was still December.

Mid-February? Holy shit. I had actually been consumed by so much work that I completely forgot the date and realized what this Tuesday is.

The day that you either love or hate depending on the current state of your personal life.

Well if you want to get really current I can tell you that my personal life isn't so great. And by "personal" I mean, you know, that Special-Somebody-that-you-celebrate-with-on-that-Special-Day-that-Hallmark-thrives-on-in-order-to-survive-along-with-the-candy-industry.

I am solo this year.

Well, I was solo last year too if you want to get technical, but that was different. This year I'm even more solo than before.

I told myself this morning when I woke up that I wouldn't get down. I wouldn't let the sight of happy couples, roses, heart shaped candy with love messages on them, and sappy love songs get the better of me. It's just Tuesday after all. Nothing so special about Tuesday.

Until the gifts appeared.

"Roses for T. Please sign here."

"Oh, right. Sure."

*

"Flowers for V. Sign please."

"Sure, no problem."

*

"Candy and flowers for R. Please-"

"Yes, I know. Sign on the line. Fine."

*

Then I must make those phone calls letting them know that they have a package that has arrived.

"Hi, V, you have a package here at the front desk. No, I don't know who it's from. No, it's not in a brown box. I'm not sure where that package is, but it hasn't arrived. Flowers, you got flowers. Because you asked me to tell you what it was! No I didn't read the card. Do you want me to? Do you want me to open the card that you got from some special person and read it out loud to you over the phone, or would you like to come down here and just get it yourself?"

I hate being the receptionist sometimes.

It's not the fact that I'm jealous of all those couples who are going out to dinner tonight, watching movies, cuddling next to each other by the fireplace, sharing gifts, and gorging each other with chocolate while an orchestra plays At Last by Ella Fitzgerald in the background.

I'm really not.

The only thing that is really stinging me is the fact that even while we were together we didn't get to share those moments no matter how cheesy or corny some people may think they are. We had an entire body of fucking water between us. So we did what we could and made the best out of a not-so-great situation and still celebrated. Just not in the most traditional way.

So tonight I'm celebrating in a semi-traditional way. I'm going to go and spend some quality time with three very special men that I have gotten to know very well throughout the years. Ben, Jerry, and Mr. Jack Daniel himself. Perhaps not the greatest answer to my problems, but for the time being I'll be able to drink myself through this agonizing day and wake up on Wednesday without any recollection of what has happened, which is how I would like to spend my time and money this year.

Although, if you are spending today with That One Person, by all means, have a good day and don't let me and my sourpuss mood bring you down from that cloud that's being carried by miniature angels playing their harps. Really.

Have a happy motherfucking Valentine's Day.