Now that the dread from that date has passed hopefully things can get a little brighter around here. Or at very least back to sharing terrible dating stories (of which there are still PLENTY.) Well, also as bright as they can be when I am still buried under 14 tons of snot. Headcolds blow. I adore my best friend’s children with all my heart, but damn I could sure do without their germs and getting sick every single time I see them. Being sick and depressed, I was fully prepared for a weekend of couch moping, but that was not to be the case. I guess the tradeoff for not being alone on Valentine’s Day is that I have to contend with other people’s opinions. The nerve.
Since I was spoiled with fancy New Year’s Eve plans, I thought I would attempt to contribute and offered to make dinner for Valentine’s Day. When I made this offer, I already had lunch plans with coworkers and thought of taking a half-day afterwards to prep a special meal for us. This did not happen because of some deadlines at work, but I still managed to squeeze out shrimp cocktail, scallops (with israeli couscous because there is no way I was going to ruin my beloved scallops pairing them with yucky cilantro) and ice cream. Hell, my house was even more than halfway clean (as long as we can exclude the spare bedroom’s piles behind closed doors) so all in all, very accomplished considering how awful I felt.
On Saturday after a breakfast of
dessert fruit waffles I was fully prepared to put on sweatpants and nap/mope on the couch for the rest of the afternoon. Sadly that was not to be. Someone insisted on leaving the house. After being completely uncooperative and rejecting a whole bunch of ideas (seriously though, no. When I am feeling blue about my dead brother I do not want to go look at corpses) I was told the shitty winter weather has cooped us up for so many weekends and we were leaving the house today to do something and I should just get in the car. Well then.
We drove around and ended up down at the lakefront to see the frozen-ness and then headed west. He has been looking at some different houses to move closer towards the freeway/city, so we popped around to see a few of those before he pulled into a bar’s parking lot. Really, really? I felt it was enough to even sit in the car for this, but I tried to humor him and went inside. There were some unattended kids shooting darts near our table (in case we forgot we were in Wisconsin) so we made some jokes about my childhood and people-watchingly wondered to whom who these kids drinking redbull (!) belonged. Eventually I agreed to play and although I held no hopes of winning, I did well enough to at least keep him on his toes for a couple games. The last thing I wanted to do that day was sit in a bar, but he kept me laughing and let me pick our pizza toppings.
I am still harboring a bit of a grudge to be cheated out of my couch time, but I am possibly willing to admit that getting out of the house was beneficial for me. Plus, I got a massage gift certificate so I really can’t argue with his good intentions.