Remember when you were eight years old and your entire elementary school class was practically forced to show its appreciation towards you by giving away corny, ambiguous paper valentines during that annual bash organized by three uncomfortably enthusiastic soccer moms? If you were lucky enough, your crush would customize his for you and handwrite, “You’re super awesome,” melting you to a puddle of nothing but pink lemonade and unicorns? Yeah, those times are gone.
9:00 am: Today is going to be a GREAT DAY! My skin is clearing up, Mom gave me 50 bucks “just because,” and I finally shaved my legs for the first time since Thanksgiving!
11:00 am: Inspirational pep talk? Check. Ritual dance in my underwear? Check. Two hours dedicated to the Nicholas Sparks film adaptation of my choosing? Check plus.
12:00 pm: Instagram is already flooded with lovey dovey shout-outs and pics way too cute for my liking. Who am I kidding? I cannot wait until I get to be that obnoxiously mushy-gooshy with my future significant other. But, while I am waiting, I am still totally happy for everyone else.
2:00 pm: Mom decides to give me that cringe-worthy classic women’s empowerment feminist speech about how I do not need a man to buy me flowers and jewelry and chocolates. I could do that all by myself.
2:10 pm: Mom, thanks but no thanks…
3:00 pm: Is it me, or is everyone outside effervescent with the radiance of love? Still, I fear getting stuck in the middle of some random flash mob to the tune of Bruno Mars’ “Just the Way You Are” or an impromptu proposal on the street. Where are those people with the “Free Hugs” signs when you need them?
4:00 pm: Time for my annual trip to the gym, the only place where I can unleash my repressed frustrations without getting arrested and/or killed. Of course no girl power montage at the gym is complete without a dope playlist. P!nk. Katy Perry. The Pussycat Dolls. Yup, the gang’s all here.
6:00 pm: God bless a good YouTube beauty channel. Maybe it took me two hours to get that smokey eye in order (faux lashes are the devil), but at the end of the day, eyebrows are on fleek and this peplum top is EVERYTHING to me right now.
8:00 pm: Although a melodramatic romance I can just openly ridicule in theatres like everyone else might be fun, 50 Shades of Grey is so not the move, even for me. My girlfriends and I opt out for American Sniper. Bradley Cooper beats Jamie Dornan any day.
10:00 pm: So tonight is not like the movies. You know, where every single character with nobody to love seems to magically end up with someone by the end of the night? But with a bajillion new inside jokes under my belt and a belly full of giggles, it’s shaping up to be a good night.
12:00 am: As I walk back home, I run into a gorgeous man on the street and we do that “weird shuffle” people do when they awkwardly laugh and look down as they shift in the same direction, try to pass and just keep bumping into each other. It is official: this is it. This is the night I meet my husband.
12:01 am: Nevermind.
2:00 am: I would stay up to watch the sun rise and chalk such a pretty landscape all up to an undying, and rather elaborate metaphor for my love life while playing a somber, Coldplay song in my head, but it’s just way too cold for that. Ain’t nobody got time to transform life into some angsty-indie flick.
4:00 am: I retire to my bed with a bag of Doritos in hand and five more episodes of Friends. At last, back to normalcy, where everyone just wants to mindlessly turn-up and “singledom” reigns supreme.