Here I Am Again

Each year, I tell myself it isn't going to be that bad. It can't be as awful as I remember it. I re-read the blog posts, and shake my head, and vow to be more spirited and happy.

And each frigging year, it's even worse than I remember, and I sink down into this huge fucking black hole of misery.

Valentine's Day is a suicide's dream.

I said, this year the kids will be with me most of the night. Kira loves these happy holidays where she can cut up paper and tape and paste things full of hearts, and tell everyone how much she loves them. She's been chirping happily around all week. Well, the part of the week I got to see her...Wednesday *and* Thursday at X's this week, they came home Friday after school on the bus.

I even volunteered to work at the school yesterday, to help the 8th grade class with their Carnation Day fundraiser. Not exactly sure what short-circuit took place in my brain to think that it would be a good idea to surround myself with that particular horror-show reinactment from my childhood. Well, I knew each of my kids was receiving at least two carnations this year: one from my parents, and one with a blank card (from me--I never did tell them last year that I did it. It was awesome to see them all lit up while they tried to figure it out). Mark actually got a third one from "Announomus." I don't know who that one is, but I might be able to find out. I've heard rumors it might be a fifth-grader.

I suppose I was thinking along the lines of "fake it till you make it." I even wore a bright-pink top and my "I ♥ nerdy boys" socks to the school.

It did not work. I spent 5.5 hours at that school, and I did not get into the Valentine's Day mood for one minute of it.

To let you know how bad it was, the high point of the day was the science teacher's lizards.

He's got these anole lizards in his room, and while the girls who were helping me with the carnations were at lunch (20 minutes), I was checking out the turtles and the anoles. I asked him about one of the lizards who had what looked like a chunk of white paper on its leg, which turned out to be molting. Then I asked what was going on with this other one, that was looking at me and had its neck swelling while it was bobbing up and down.

He laughed and said, "He likes you. It's a courting ritual."

Great. I attract lizards.

Other than turning a lizard on, the rest of the day wasn't particularly great.

And today has fucking sucked.

I woke up in a bad funk, which has only gotten worse all day. I've spent almost the entire day in bed, just waiting for the damn day to be over. I tried to cheer myself out of it, reminding myself that it's just a day, and that I don't have to bow to this consumerist pressure-laden mess, but it has not worked.

I tried to think of things to distract myself. Briefly thought of going out tonight. Maybe catch a movie. And then realized that I would be surrounded by couples doing couply-type things. Not going out.

So I checked out TV listings. Maybe House repeats. Nope. All the stations are running romantic movies. Awesome. No TV.

I grabbed my new zombie book. The Living Dead. Anthology of zombie books, including stories by Joe Hill, Stephen King (yay!) and many others. Got ready for some brain-eating and general mayhem and hysteria. And got zombie sex and love. It is a freaking ZOMBIE BOOK. There should be no LOVE here!

I am doomed, people. In a world where you can't depend on the zombies to save you, what can you count on?

It sure as hell ain't love. mk