Oh, How I Hate You, Let Me Count the Ways

While everyone else in America waits in eager anticipation of their date night, candy, flowers, jewelry, sex or whatever else floats their boat, I sit impatiently waiting Valentine's day to be over. I hate the holiday, and personally finds it means next to nothing religiously or traditionally. As far as I'm concerned, it's 100% commercial crap designed to break up the winter humdrums with the lull between Christmas and Easter. It's a gap filler that we created. The end. 

Why do I feel this way? Let me tell you. My husband is a florist. That means he has to suck the commercial dick of Valentine's day and the only sex either of us is getting is figuratively up the ass without lube. He's working balls to the wall all day every day, taking orders and churning out roses while people yell at him for how much they cost and on Friday, he will be yelled at because he didn't get every single order out in exactly the way the sender anticipated. Not that he will have messed up, oh no, he's just supposed to read minds. 

I'm a little bitter about Valentine's day. I have flowers, gorgeous flowers sitting on my desk right now. Prettier than anything anyone else can expect, and I know this. They're perfect. He's a perfect husband, as perfect as any man can be, about 325 days a year. So I try not to complain when he has to be absent, when he's short-tempered from these long days. But it takes a toll. It makes me bitter, not towards him, but towards this god forsaken holiday. As everyone talks excitedly about their dates and what nots, I'm just glad to see it pass us by. And I really hate wishing away days, wishing away my life. But I just want to get back to the good parts. 

For the record, I feel the same way about Mother's Day and Father's Day. Father's Day not as much, but these "Hallmark Holidays" really get on my nerves. They're great for business, I know, so keep loving your holidays, keep loving your gifts, and keep loving your lover. Just think about the people behind the scenes, what they're having to do, the time they are spending away from their loved ones so you can be provided with whatever service they provide, be it flowers, jewelry or sex toys. 

Speaking of sex toys, I just took him breakfast and while at the front counter, I noticed these lovely things. 

Don't get too excited. They're not what they look like.

See. Keychains. Anal beads on key chains. I guess that gets us ready for figurative dick up the ass....