It’s February. It’s almost Spring. And Valentine’s Day is right around the corner.
Can we all agree Valentine’s Day is just the worst holiday. Sure, it was fun in elementary school when we would bedazzle shoeboxes and eat heart shaped cookies all day long, but as an adult it’s just dreadful. When you are single it’s a big fat reminder that you are, in fact, not sharing your life with anyone romantically. Like that’s not completely depressing. And even if you do have a sweetheart it’s annoying. I mean, who ever knows what is an appropriate gift. What if you agree on not exchanging gifts but then your husband still comes home with a bouquet of overpriced red roses and you’re like, “Aw that’s so thoughtful!” but really you are thinking to yourself that for $100 you would have rather gotten lash extensions. If you go out to a nice dinner every single restaurant forces you to order from a cheesy overpriced, prefixed menu. I fucking HATE prefixed menus. I just want to eat what I want to eat on the day of love. Why is that too much to ask for?!
My ideal Valentine’s Day is wearing sweats on my sofa with my sweetie stuffing my face with pizza.
What can I say? He’s a lucky guy.
My eyes may start bleeding every time I walk into Walgreens and face a 4′ tall stuffed gorilla that sings L-O-V-E when you squeeze his big toe, but I’m not anti alllll things romantical. I mean, my apartment is pink for God’s sake. I’m just more attracted to subtle sexy vibes and infuse my home with sex appeal on the daily, not just February 14th.