Thank God it’s February 15th.

My disdain for Valentine’s Day is world-renowned. It probably falls just after the Philadelphia Flyers and Taylor Swift on the list of things I really, really don’t like. As a result, I’d spent the entire week straddling the edge between sane and crazy and using a combination of working out and Downton Abbey to keep myself there.

Valentines Day 2013 was an improvement over recent years, because at the very least, I didn’t have a breakdown over a text message (2012) or a Facebook comment (2011) or drink more wine than a human being should ever consume (2010). It wasn’t bad, I guess. Nothing really happened… and I guess that’s why it bothered me so much. I did nothing. I woke up, I spent my mornings as I usually do, doing a mixture of job searching, cover letter writing, and watching Good Morning America. Then I moved to the couch to try to avoid Facebook and Twitter and every damn website in the world blasting pink and red hearts my way. I watched The Americans, because I figured there aren’t many things less romantic than Soviet spies. Then I watched New Girl, because there aren’t many things more romantic and wonderful than Nick Miller. Then I went to the gym (where the trainers asked why I didn’t have other plans), ate dinner, watched some hockey (thank you, valentine forever Jordan Staal, for scoring me a goal), read, and went to bed.

It was a fine day. Wasn’t bad, wasn’t good. Just… meh.

To top everything off, I realized that there is, in fact, something worse than being single on Valentine’s Day – it’s being sort of dating someone but not really because you don’t know what you’re doing with your life or where you’re going to be living or when you’re going to find a damn job and accordingly you can’t just take a leap and commit to anything on Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps I could have had a decent (or even great) Valentine’s Day, if only I’d tried a little harder, or circumstances had been different, or I could find a damn job. It’s one thing to know nothing is going to happen; you can accept it and move on. It’s quite another – especially in the situation I’m in – to just be in limbo.

The limbo – in my professional and personal life – is really starting to grate on me. Today marks five months since I lost my job, three months since moving home. I’m sick of not knowing what I’m doing and where I’m going, but I can’t work on my personal life until I get my professional life on track. That’s my priority right now, and I have been told I’m doing all the right things, but dammit, it’s so frustrating. I just want stability again.

But at least the next Valentine’s Day is another year away. Hopefully I’ll have it all figured out by then.



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