Valentine’s Day: Yes, We’re All Still Talking About It

I don’t want to post another of those “F&%k Valentine’s Day” blogs, or the “Not to be all bitter, but F$%k Valentine’s Day” blogs. And yet here I am.

By CC Staff

Here’s the thing about Valentine’s Day: It lasts for freaking ever. It’s all, “Have a Happy Valentine’s Day!” and, “How’s your Valentine’s Day going?” and then, “Can you believe there are only 364 days until Valentine’s Day rolls around again?” And the cycle continues.

And then there’s Valentine’s Day At Work. It’s the same for everyone. There’s always:

-The sad single girl who clearly spent all night making pink cupcakes for the staff which no one eats.

-The annoying work couple who crack little post-coital jokes February 15th that make you want to puke or get married over the Internet.

-The boss who schedules you to work until 11pm Valentine’s Day evening because she “assumed you would be free…”

How to tastefully deal with Valentine’s Day? It’s a toughie. Some people have those “Anti- Valentine’s Day” parties, but to work these either need to be flooded with movie stars or take place in the Village. Otherwise they can be reminiscent of those “Anti-Prom” parties you and your Literary Club friends had junior year of high school.

Don’t worry. You were the truly cool ones, just like mom said.

At one of my jobs I’m an intern. I mostly do grunt work but one of my tasks seems to be to act as a liason to the hip, young community with which my supervisor has lost touch. So when Valentine’s Day roles around he naively asked, “So, what young people things are you and your boyfriend doing?” Based on the poling pool he probably thinks that all young people watch reruns of Lost on Valentine’s Day Eve.

Whatever will get me that pity raise.

So Valentine’s Day has come and gone and we are all still alive. We all learned a few things. Perhaps we learned that happy people are utterly intolerable. Perhaps we learned that pink and red should be against the law. Perhaps we learned that sending flowers to yourself is expensive and doesn’t fool anyone. Whatever the case, we are older, wiser, and bitterer.

I’ll catch y’all later. T-minus 364!