I’m sick of Valentine’s Day

I’m sick of Valentine’s Day already. I think last year I wrote some nauseating guff about how lovely and peachy it all is, and how single people should be jolly happy and all the rest, because I was all loved up with Marianne. Well, don’t expect that this year unless a minor miracle occurs between now and Friday. Instead, expect me to be miserable and curmudgeonly, and probably rambling on about the fact that I haven’t had a VD card since 1997. grump.
I’m fed up with the whole anti-valentine’s thing too. If people want to be happy and gooey and give each other cards, flowers, dinner and genital herpes, well that’s up to them. We’ve all done it at some time or another, even in a small way, so really have no room to make any sort of statement about it. But don’t try to get me to make some statement about it in the form of an e-card or something. I’ll just be miserable and grumpy here, all by myself, without any help from anyone else, thank you.