Single Awareness Day (Warning I didn't hold back or filter. Read at your own risk)


          It’s no secret that I am as single as the dollar bills raining down on a stripper at noon on Wednesday, sad, depressing, and yes at times, pathetic. I recently took a Facebook quiz that rated how romantic you are…I was 0% romantic… no exaggeration…0%. FOREVER ALONE!!  As if the Facebook universe was a legitimate source of information pertaining to my love life. I wonder if those people that take Facebook as seriously as the newspaper, look at my wall and think I must be chow wowing on fresh muff since I only post pictures with women.
            There is no muff diving here. But then again there is no pole cleaning going on here either. Valentine’s Day is just another day that reminds me how empty my side of the bed is and that I have a lack of flowers and chocolates in my possession. Don’t get me wrong, I’m content in my single-ness, I have plenty on my plate.  What Valentine’s Day represents is what makes my chest cavity ache. New love, old love, lust, I buy you candy, you give me a handy. It’s all just a blatant excuse for overly public displays of affection and for some cheap ass douchers, is used as a timeline of when to break it off with their girlfriend. I understand my view on Valentine’s Day is very negative, but I don’t know a whole lot of single women who find this holiday endearing.

            I work at a wonderful school this year and was surprised by the out pouring of love and goodies I received on Valentine’s Day. But it still wasn't the same. Getting flowers from a significant person in your life is definitely different than getting them from a second grader, still cute and appreciated, but not the same. As I sat at my desk and thought how it has been more than 10 years since I haven’t received flowers on V Day, a light bulb went off, I’ll buy my own damn flowers!
            I looked them up online to have them delivered and can I just say, “Bravo, dudes!” The price tag for flowers is INSANE! Who the hell comes up with those prices? Are they arranged in Jesus’s shoe? Are they delivered via a Lamborghini? Ridiculous! Having never had to buy flowers for myself, I was definitely not prepared for that reality slap to the face. Coodos to men. Anyways, I scratched that crock of shit real fast and moved on to where every middle aged women in pajamas shops… Wal- Mart. And as common sense would have it, they had reasonably priced flowers.
            Now I’m going to bring the mood down a bit. I bought these flowers for me. Not because I’m single. Not because I couldn't find someone to buy these for me. But because I love me. Maybe not every day do I love me, but the majority of the time I am my favorite person. I don’t cut myself a lot of slack and I don’t appreciate myself as much as I should.

            I gave my girls flowers from my bouquet with a sweet note. I may not have it all together but I do have it all. I appreciate myself, my struggle, my kids, and my empty other side of the bed. I believe I’m a catch that no one has caught yet. And on this day of love, I choose myself.


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