I have definitely had worse Valentine’s Days.
Today didn’t even make my top five all time worse Valentine’s or anything. The year my husband tried to tell me that Valentine’s Day was just another day, and a stupid one at that—that year would undeniably make the list. Almost any year while I was married to my ex-husband could be a contender for the list.
But this year? This was not a bad Valentine’s Day, just a disappointing one.
The day started out fine—most days do. In fact, I made it through most of the day without incident. Mike and I made tentative plans for how we would spend our Valentine’s Day. I was going to cook dinner at home, and we would go see a movie after. There was nothing wrong with the plan.
The execution was tragically flawed.
I had just put dinner in the oven when Joey escaped. It only took one moment of not paying attention and—poof! I was certain my dinner would be ruined while I was forced to drive in circles around the neighborhood searching for our wayward pet. I was pleasantly surprised to find him before I even made it to end of the driveway.
Dinner was saved.
I took dinner out of the over just after six. In fact, I took dinner out of the over around the same time Mike was leaving the office. The problem with that? His office is at least an hour long drive from home in rush hour traffic.
I kept dinner warm as I searched the movie times to find something that, a) we would both enjoy and b) something that wasn’t showing too early. The pickings were slim. I didn’t find anything I was overly interested in, which meant Mike would be even less interested.
Mike walked in just before seven thirty and we ate dinner, standing up in the kitchen (because the table is still piled high with boxes from the move) and debated our options for entertainment for the evening.
I decided that rather than go see a movie just to say we did, it might be more fun to drive to Atlanta and walk around the shops in Atlantic Station.
Mike agreed, and off we went.
We got to Atlantic Station at eight-thirty. Exactly thirty minutes before everything closed. By the time we parked and got out of the car, we had less than twenty minutes to walk around before heading back to the northern suburbs.
We were going to stop for dessert, but by the time we picked up one of the girls from a friend’s house and took her home, the restaurants were already getting ready to close up for the night.
Instead, we sat in separate chairs, on separate laptops surfing the internet and watching HGTV.
I didn’t even get flowers this year.
But tomorrow is another day, and flowers will be on sale everywhere. And to quote my husband, “Valentine’s Day is just another day.”
So I guess I’ll just celebrate mine tomorrow.
Until the next time…I’ll be shopping for flowers!