Actually, this has been, so far, a better Valentine's Day than most in recent memory. Not only did I get the traditional (workplace name redacted) big, red heart-shaped box of chocolates from the boss, but the owner of the company (not my boss, exactly, but the mother of my boss) decided to buy us pizza for lunch, from my very favorite pizza place. I had "Pizza of the Gods"--artichoke hearts, mushrooms, tomatoes, garlic...mmmmmm. Okay, I'll go home tonight to Pudge and the cats, and there will be no wining and dining and declarations of love, but I'm sure the memory of the pizza (and my lingering garlic breath) will carry me through.
I was also invited to today to join a group of women who meet for monthly potluck/drinking/bitching sessions. I was very flattered to be asked, since the insecure, shy child within me is always amazed to think that anyone might be desirous of my company. Which is weird, since I know intellectually that I can be pretty fun to hang with--I'm quick with a quip, and never a mean drunk. At any rate, I accepted eagerly--the women seem to be all very bright and accomplished, and it sounds fun. Drinking and bitching--who wouldn't love that? I thought it was an informal kind of thing, something akin to my "cat lady lunch" group, and then I found out the group actually has a name, and suggestions for potential members are approved in advance by the membership, and for some reason that makes me laugh. I don't know why. I guess I'm just hoping they don't take themselves too seriously. We'll see, I guess. But in the meantime, my inner Sally Fields is saying "They LIKE me! They really LIKE me!" Hee.