I've never liked V-day. Ever. 'Course I was *always* alone. Always. But even now with a husband, I still hate today, "Valentine's Day". Especially this year.

I'm fucking tired. Exhausted, really.

I woke up at 2AM and couldn't fall asleep. Finally at 4AM I had enough and started lurking on the internet. Then at about 6AM I crawled my cold ass into bed, turned off my alarm, and drifted off here and there - but nothing sound.

Then Stan's alarm sounded. I drifted. Then the alarm sounded again. WTF? I hate the snooze button. What's the point? It sounded again and I snapped. "Are you gonna go to fucking work or what?" Seriously!

He gets up and I sprawl across the whole bed... and fall asleep. Hard. And good. Dreamland here I come.

And then I feel something awful. Something is inside my ear... My wonderful husband decided to TAKE THE FUCKING EARPLUGS OUT OF MY EAR - WHILE I WAS SLEEPING!!!

I snapped again: "What the fuck are you doing?!?"

I never talk to him this way. Ever. And now twice in a half hour I've cussed at him. I'm such a loser and a bitch. And I'm so tired. He doesn't deserve this from me.

Now I'm at work. No flowers. No chocolate. No donuts. Nothing.

Dinner will be a frozen pizza since Stan's working extra late. On Valentine's Day. It's probably a good thing we've never really "celebrated" v-day. It's just a Thursday to us, to him.

A Thursday I'd much rather not remember.