I’m doing everything I can right now to relax. I’m in a bath filled with some foul smelling substance pretending to be rejuvenating bath oils with myrrh extract. I’ve finished Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason and half a bottle of Riesling. And despite my best efforts it’s just not working. I can’t relax because I have spent the majority of the day moving back into my mother’s house…on Valentines Day.
*Good God Lemon*
In case you were wondering the rest of my day was split between wishing that every women with flowers would get her period in a shark tank and making a list of things that would be infinitely harder with two people. The list so far:
- Drinking from a straw
Lists are hard.
The frightening reality that I’m now faced with is trying to maintain any sort of independence under my mother’s roof. A women who’s favourite activity is to make pointed suggestions but never actually asking me outright to do anything. Probably due to some residual divorce related guilt.
“The TV is very loud…your room’s a bit dirty…the garbage is getting full…what’s with the kitchen…your hair’s long…it’s seriously loud.”
* Nothing. Nothing. Not a thing, Cruella.*
Anyway it’s not all bad though I suppose. I do appreciate the fully stocked pantry and fridge, considering some of my recent meals. One of which included a slug of soy sauce and three packets of out of date snack sized Red Rock Deli chips.
*At times like this continuing with one’s life seems impossible and eating the entire contents of one’s fridge seems inevitable*
As far as potential suitors go, there have been several exciting developments. I had an adult dream about Alec Baldwin where I asked him to call me Lemon and I spent five whole minutes staring at a topless picture of Zac Efron while repeating the word “rig” over and over. Progress!
*He’s losing his mind…and I’m reaping all the benefits*
To be fair though, perhaps the reason that I dislike this day so much is because I have never dated anyone who shares my strangely John Hughesian sense of romance. After buying countless gifts, sending flowers and messy owl posts I really just want someone to do that for me.
It’s not jealously, ok maybe it is a little, but I think like everyone else I just want to be wanted…and for my decisions not to be decided for me by some stupid gaybie poster child. You fancy, flying fuck.
So for all of you out there who are lucky enough to have a husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, partner, whatever I am truly sorry you have to deal with the general public’s rage on February 14th just try to spread your sickening love out over the rest of the year, please.
*I don’t hate you because you’re fat, you’re fat because I hate you*
Well, from the bottom of my wine, Happy Valentines Day.
I love you Mum