Buried Alive...

Between the snow and sleet and wintry mix, I'm starting to feel a bit wintered out. There's a horrific pile of white crap outside. Of course, around my apartment, most of the white crap is actually yellow as there are ginormous dogs living near me who seem to have bladder control problems.

I seriously felt like a yeti as I stumbled through the falling sleet from work to my car to my apartment. I actually had to beat my car windows with an ice scraper to get some of the accumulated ice off.

And of course, tomorrow is f*cking Valentine's Day. I hate all of that pink, cupidy bullshit. There are piles of roses all around and people are getting fancy diamond rings and even the most repugnant (personality-wise) people in the building are talking about their romantic V-Day plans. I feel like the only single person alive. Every time I see a rose, I want to rip it up into a million pieces. Although I'd only prick my fingers on the thorns, so I guess there's no real point to that.

I don't know why it's bugging me so much - it's not like I ever did fancy-shmancy stuff with any of my previous boyfriends on Valentine's Day. I guess it's because I've had the worst luck with men this year and it's frustrating the hell out of me. To make matters worse, I seriously think I've run out of men to date. I don't think there's anyone left.

At least I have American Idol...and trashy books...