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Valentine's Day
Ah valentines day - you've got to love it. A day of optimism. A day of dreams. A day of expectation. A day of pure commercialism. A day of mourning.

It started like any normal Thursday, a hangover from hell after the weekly club meeting, a shower where the water felt like it was piercing my skin and off milk in the fridge (subtle hint by housemates that it was my turn to buy it?). But today was different, my "just been married" housemates (bless them) were up and whilst she was putting her 12 long stem roses in a vase, he was making her breakfast. Immediately nausea set in. I waited in vain for the postman, he bought me bills. I managed a wolf whistle on my way to work, wahey, however I had deliberately taken the long route today which just happened to take me past the building construction site (and I was wearing a knee length skirt and pointy stiletto's!). Everywhere I looked people were walking past me with that smug "I've just been shagged" look in their eyes and to top things off, the sun decided to cast its love down and shine brightly. That did it. That was the final straw. Paranoia had set in.

I arrived at work, grumpy, tired, hungry but looking fabulous in a pink top which I somehow this morning managed to equate to love (pink = love??). I had a slight case of Bridget Jones-ism when I opened my valentines day emails from fellow Paranoia Club members. Vivid flashbacks of yester-year ticked over in my mind. When did I lose my feelings of love for mankind? Why do I prefer the feelings of revenge taken on cheating ex's compared to that of new relationships? Why did I refuse to see that gorgeous South African model again but then go out with someone who has strange retina's? Is it possible to have a long term relationship with vodka and Malbro lights? Where do you draw the line between showing someone that you love them and stalking?

I consoled myself in the thought that at least I was keeping BT in business and thus helping the UK's economy. I reassured myself that it was a good idea that I drank then dialled a couple of my ex's from Australia last night. Just wanted to wish them happy Valentines Day because I am a nice person, and because I know they love hearing from me especially when I am smashed (I mean who doesnt!). I even rang my mum however I'm not sure how much she still loves me after the slurs and burps that I left on her answering machine.

I looked around and decided that it wasn't me who I should feel sorry for - it was the employers of the world, after all THEY are the big losers today. Receptionists worldwide will be making internal calls so flowers can be collected from the front desk instead of taking business calls. Female workers will stand around aimlessly discussing who has the most romantic boyfriend/husband. Men in offices will waste time contemplating whether text or emailed Valentines Day messages will suffice. Florists lose valuable time explaining to teenage boys why different colour flowers have different meanings and why romance/love/sex can't be bought with a £1.25 bouquet from Tesco's and think of the poor TV stations. They will lose money because its the only day in the year when men will allow themselves (or be forced) to watch crap girlie romance videos.

It's the minging munted people of the world that my sympathies should be saved for. After all they are the ones who will be left bitterly disappointed and crushed today by love (or lack thereof). Not me though, I have love in my heart saved for very special things (ie my mates, partying and ability to pull stunning men whose names I never remember).

Ah I am the luckiest person in the world.

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY PEOPLE