Foot long KitKat love

I was trying to think about something clever to post about, but alas, my day-to-day life is running short on cleverness (and, incidentally, high on stress and bad jokes and book reports and, as I’m discovering right now, new songs in iTunes that skip, but that’s besides the point), so I’ll post about what ever other blogger out there is posting about today: Valentine’s Day (clearly I’m running high on individuality, aye?)

I’ve been reading blogs all day because, well, that’s my favorite way to waste time and put off book reports, and you’d think that these February 15th posts might run the gamet, but, no, they do not, Internet. N early everyone’s central theme revolves around, or at least devotes a healthy paragraph, to Valentine’s Day, and who am I to change a trend such as that? I also noticed that these Valentine’s Day posts aren’t all over the board; no, they fall into two categories, ones that I bet you can already guess. The first is the lovely realm that involves love and flowers and batty eyelashes and poems and all of those wonderful things you secretly love but pretend to hate if you’re in the second category, which involves going about your normal Sunday routine, pretending to ignore the batty eyelashes because, well, none are being batted your way and you know what? YOU DON’T CARE. (Except you do care, a tiny bit, and maybe a lot, depending on your level of bitterness.) So I fall into the second category, and a very lonely day it was indeed, although it would have been a lonely Sunday regardless, but the chocolate-covered love, or lack thereof, in my life was somewhat, well, depressing.

But, do not worry about me, lovely reader! I did what every lonely girl on Valentine’s Day does: I ate some candy. A foot long KitKat bar, actually, and I don’t feel one bit guilty. Then  I went to the gym and worked the entire thing (okay, like a fourth) off, and then I constructed a larger-than-life Valentine’s Day card for my best friend, who happened to be out on a stunning, marvelous date where she batted her eyelashes with best of ‘em. I was proud. It sounds nice, yes? You wish you’d been here? Well, dear, I do, too. It was lonely.

And that’s my Valentine’s Day sob story, and now I’m done. I hope your Valentine’s Day was less lonely, but equally productive (that’s right! Productivity! When I got out of bed this morning and felt the condition of my thighs, I realized, “Go, you! You and your productive V-Day workout! Ha, Valentine’s Day! I did something with you!) And there’s more in store! The group of friends that claims me has included me in the Valentine’s Day exchange, and due to people having actual Valentiney plans yesterday (we’re not all lonely), we’re exchanging gifts tonight. How I ldo ook forward to the heart-shaped box of candy I hope is in store for me, on account of I ate all of my KitKat bar.

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