The day has finally thrust itself upon us. Millions of normally sane minded women have lost all senses, awaiting eagerly for the cards, flowers and chocolates, maybe some perfume or something sparkly, by midday, Akosua will call Beatrice and Barbara will call Akua, they will compare notes on whose partner did the best. Commercial madness if you ask me.
The radio is buzzing with love songs, top 3, coming in at number 3 is Westlife’s Flying without wings, at 2, gone down one place since last vals day is of course Celine Dion and “my heart will go on”, at no 1, gone back up one place is Whitney and I will always love you, coupled with her passing away this Sunday, it is a double dosage.
I got a BBM from my Nigerian friend, wishing me a happy valentines day. I assume when I told him yesterday that it was a commercial waste of a day I was just being a bitter single woman, to make his matter worse he asked me if I was not going to respond. It was 6am, I didn’t get up at my usual 4.30 because I needed that extra hour in bed, so the last thing I needed was to open my eye and respond. The response he got was thanks but this day is not my cup of tea. I then got a message from a guy who I went out on a date with some time in 2010. I can’t remember if I told you about the guy who took me to Rhapsodys and told me he could only afford to buy me the one drink. Ok so you don’t have Rhapsodys money, there are places which you could take me that cost far less. He then told me about how he used to live in London and he was going to marry to get his papers but for whatever reason, he and the girl fell out and she reported him to immigration. He came here with the shirt on his back and a dream of setting up his own business. Nice dream, I have a dream of becoming a lawyer. I just need to get myself into the law school and get called to the bar, however I have a mortgage to pay so have to be a salary slave for a while. I can’t afford to support some guys dream. Furthermore, although I respect his honesty, is that really how to go impressing a girl on the first date. I was quite surprised to get the text this morning, but what’s 4p on a message.
I do sound like a bitter singleton. But really I just hate this day with a passion. In 2005 when I was young and in love with my now ex, he bought me a bunch of roses and chocolate. Romantic, no. Flowers make me sneeze, and they die and end up in the bin eventually, my arse can’t take any more chocolate (I was a size 14 going on 16 at the time and was on the weight watchers programme), I didn’t have the heart to tell him that vals day sucks, but I didn’t have the strength to gush at the effort he made either, so thanks was all he got.
Smother and I agreed on one thing today (hooray), this country takes the whole day too far. There are women here who will take to their beds crying if they don’t get something today. It is more important to them than christmas or easter. I would be far more disappointed if somebody forgot my birthday, but as for today, I’m hoping it will fly by very quickly.
But to all you lovers out there who can be fussed, I’m not completely heartless, wishing you a happy valentines day and may your love continue after this commercial massacre of a day.
That cupid guy has a lot to answer for…