I laid on a cold hard table, having an MRI of my spine to determine if I have a ruptured disc, bulging disc, MS or any combination of the three. And Mr. beckwall forgot to meet me at the appointment - I’m usually not a baby about something like this, but I needed moral support. And then he lied about forgetting (I have amazing powers of bullshit detection), so let’s just say that “candy store was closed” last night. Hey, what happened to that Doper, I think he was in Korea and his girlfriend used to say “candy store closed” when she wasn’t going to put out. OK, so nobody died or anything, but it was a crappy day for me.
::sigh::
You weren’t the only one.
I sincerely apologize. I knew I shouldn’t have had that 40 at breakfast.
Went back to work after a short vacation. Work was not pleasant.
Came home, and the ex-girlfriend who’s been emotionally tormenting me sent me a dozen pink roses.
I resisted the urge to set them on fire.
Sometimes catharsis really is the best option. You bring the matches; I’ll supply the lighter fluid.
We can mail them back to her when you’re done. In an urn, inscribed with the phrase: “Here lie the ashes of objectionable ex-lovers.”
And they said I wasn’t a romantic.
Stranger
I had a(nother) fight with my mother, and resolved (again) not to become someone like her, a nasty bitter person who shows an angelic face to the world (everyone else adores her) while making her children and husband miserable.
Other than that, everything was great.
lonely
so, so lonely
Better than last year when I was lonely and bitter.
Wait Tuesday was Valentine’s day? Damn. I guess the Institute had me working so hard I didn’t even notice. Oh well, better than being depressed/bitter/more lonely than usual, I suppose.
Damn, no you’ve all got me thinking about how I need a girlfriend. Ugh… I gues I’ll drown my sorrows in physics homework.
So… what happened next? Voyeuristic minds want to know.
As of last night, I have rejoined the ranks of the single people.
I’d always wondered what it would be like to have a girlfriend on Valentine’s Day. Now I know.
Well, my crappy Valentine Day’s experience actually started on saturday evening.
Around 19:00 I received a call from my brother, whose wife was about to give birth to their first child. So, he asked me to get something from his apartment. Figuring it was the least I could do, I went to meet him at the hospital where he was.
Half an hour later, I arrived at the hospital and got the keys to the apartment. And on my way I was. I was cruising along, and got to a cross with semaphores all around. I saw that I had clearly green light, so I didn’t even brake. Big mistake. Out of nowhere (or rather from my left), a pick-up materialized and slammed into my car, slightly correcting my course so I could slam head-on into a post.
Net result: splintbone and shinbone in the right leg fully broken (4 pieces). My car totalled. Luckily for me, I’m fully insured so the financial cost won’t be extreme, however, I was in the hospital till yesterday.
And no, I didn’t have a significant plan for valentine’s day.
I just had to get this off my chest.
Sweet! Doper Boys night out! Strip club time!
I mean, sorry to hear that Lord Ashtar.
Heh, I’ve already been offered that by two of my friends. Of course, they’re both pervs who will use any excuse to go to a strip club, but they’re hearts are in the right place.
It started out okay. We came home after work and Mr. Armadillo had brought home a bottle of wine, some expensive and smelly cheeses, good bread, good, high cocoa content chocolate, and strawberries.
I still had to cook dinner, so we nibbled in the kitchen while I cooked.
We started to have sex, but it ended terribly with me sobbing.
I’m wretchedly depressed lately, and vaguely suicidal*, I could really have done without Valentine’s Day this year.
*No plans or anything, just feeling crummy and blue and helpless and hopeless. Hrmph.
Thanks Stranger on a Train, that’s sweet of you. They’re in a vase right now, slowly rotting away. I like to think it symbolizes me and the ex’s relationship.
Lord Ashtar, you have my sympathies. Sometimes being alone on V-Day is better than being with someone who drives you bonkers.
MixieArmadillo, I’m so sorry. For what it’s worth, I was exactly where you are last year on V-Day. Take it from me, it does get better.
One of Khadaji’s rules is: It is better to be alone than to wish you were.