1 2 3 4 tell me that you love me more…
Valentine’s Day has come and gone. Somehow I missed it. Okay, so I didn’t really miss it, I kind of ignored it. I knew what day it was, what with all the craziness at work, preparing for one of the busiest nights of the year (everyone eats out on Valentine’s Day, and nothing says romance like a Triple Prime Burger), but I tried to zone it out. Another year gone, another year of singleness. This past year, it seems, though, that there’ve been more attempts than ever to hook me up with various women. I find this odd. Perhaps it’s because I’m getting a bit older and people are wondering if maybe I need a little push. Listen, folks, I’m only 21. Give me some room. Give me some time. Geez.
Anyway, I spent Valentine’s Day night at home in pain trying not to lose feeling in my right thumb and index finger. Wednesday I worked 9 to 7 trying to prep up extra stuff for V-Day’s craziness. Thursday I went in at 9 again and at 4:30 was still prepping away…it didn’t look like I’d be going home anytime soon. Until I was trying to open a can of lump crab meat with a really crappy can opener. I cut the tip of my thumb and the inside of my forefinger just above the first knuckle at the SAME TIME. It was crazy. The thumb cut was deeper and bleeding heavier. I asked to be sent home, which they okayed after I assured them I wasn’t going to need stitches (I wasn’t totally sure of that myself, but I thought, you know, power of positive thinking). So I went home, doctored myself up (very hard to do when your two main digits on one hand are out of commission and are what needs doctoring), and sat down to spend many, many…MANY hours at the computer continuing to ignore the holiday. It was kind of depressing, but I survived.
I have a date (kind of a date, kind of a hang out time, whatever, of course I have no idea where I stand) Monday night, so maybe my stars will change. We’ll see.






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