I'm not having a very sexy Valentine's Day. I woke up this morning with a cold or the flu or something. Nothing serious but I felt feverish enough to take the day off work and mope around the apartment in my pajamas.
It sucks being sick but it really sucks being sick on a day when there's nothing on television but a sea of red hearts and pink flowers and happy couples. I tried watching the news but even that was filled with stories about how busy the local florists were today.
So I ended up tuning into the Olympics just to get away from all of the schmoopy, schmaltzy shit. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for romance. But Valentine's Day is the antithesis of romance. There's nothing fun about forced fun.
Still, as much as I love to hate Valentine's Day, I was secretly thrilled when I opened my mailbox this afternoon to find a pink envelope covered with hand-drawn hearts in red pencil crayon. Stuffed inside the envelope was a lovely note along with a mixed CD from my new favourite sister (thanks, Anne!).
It was a nice reminder that Valentine's Day isn't just for couples. And that the smallest gestures are the sweetest.