It's Valentine's Day. Yesterday, I knew today was Valentine's Day. Today, I went to therapy (mmmmm, 7 a.m. brain dump), hopped the train, posted, did some work, jumped into Bloglines...uh...hey, it's Valentine's Day (for the record, Bobby caused the light to go on).
The fact that it's Valentine's Day, that marketing-driven psuedo-holiday, doesn't tilt me, doesn't force introspection or a heightened sense of loss. I suppose that's because the wife and I never paid the day much heed. It's a bullshit holiday. I didn't need greeting card companies to remind me to let the wife know how much I loved her. And she felt the same.
And also, because our wedding anniversary is on the 26th of February, rendering Valentine's even less important, in relative terms of meaning.
Now, the 26th...that's gonna be a day. Do I get to say we were married for 6 years, because technically we will still be married on that day? It's the Iron Anniversary, which sounds like a High School Football championship in Pennsylvania. And what kind of gift could one find made of Iron? Well, I asked Google. One site said, "Give your mate a ride on the Iron Horse," which is not just overtly suggestive, but creepy since Lou Gehrig's been dead for 64 years. Oh, they meant a train.
I actually bought the wife an anniversary present, back in those naive days when I thought our marriage was salvageable, before it dawned on me that she had zero interest in joining me in the reclamation effort. Cost me $1600, too. That's Sixteen-Hundred Non-Refundable Poker Bankroll Dollars.
I wonder what she's getting me?