It’s February: run for cover if you know what’s good for you!

It’s that time of the year again, when the romantics make dinner reservations and pre-book roses for their beloved, and the cynical (God forbid you should call them cheap to their faces) get into heated discussions as to why it’s all commercialized and just a socially accepted excuse for daylight robbery.

Personally I find both camps equally tiresome: the ones that buy in to the hoopla and the ones that sneer at their gullibility. But if I had to choose, the self righteous cynics irritate me more, at the very least the love struck sods are thinking only of the happiness of their loved ones however expensive that might prove to be.

It is also that time of the year when people start sneaking looks at their single and unattached friends/colleagues/random strangers in the mall, while shaking their heads and clucking their tongues in condescending pity. I have always wondered why people tend to think singles are all the same and the whole lot should be pitied. Do they really think that on the ‘dreaded’ day, we hide ourselves in our burrows to mope, beat our chests and cry that no one loves us, and no one ever will?

Personally the day has always been ordinary for me, occasionally punctuated with the odd card here and there from people either known or anonymous, and would pass unnoticed if not for the annoying personal questions from nosy parkers who prefer to mind your business rather than their own.

{I think I have spent too much time on my own, that I will forever feel the need to champion the rights of all misunderstood and much maligned singles out there. Heh, I know no one asked me to and probably no one cares but I’ll damn well stand on my soapbox if I want to!}

It’s not hard to tell what’s different for me this year. I feel the same way though about the day: that it has to at least be acknowledged if you have an other half. The trick is to know just how to express it in a way only the other person would understand and appreciate, which means of course that I’m in big trouble because I happen to be clueless!

My fallback plan? If all else fails, I’ll start ranting and raving, daily mind you, at the ridiculously exorbitant prices of all the accompanying celebratory paraphernalia and piously proclaim that love should be declared everyday and not just relegated to one day a year.

Yeah right. Oh shucks, who am I kidding??!