Valentine’s Day is nearly upon us–hide your kids, hide your wife, hide your husband, hide your heart, and, most importantly, hide your wallet. They’re coming. Last year I just barely escaped the smothering sticky sweet smell that seems to foretell the impending doom of this holiday. This year I’m fortifying my ramparts.

“My manager told me that every year we’re mobbed by anxious husbands and boyfriends in crazed frenzies and on the brink of emotional meltdowns. I’ve heard the stories. This is my first time working V-Day, and I’ve been waking up with cold sweats since February began,” says Fred Thompson of Lake Forest Flowers.

As a single woman on Valentine’s Day, I will be attempting the impossible: skipping Valentine’s Day. That’s right, skipping it. Like it never even happened. Throughout the years, I have observed my friends riddled with the emotional baggage and stress that rains down once the clouds form and the sky opens with its unyielding plague of fuzzy lovey-dovey rose-scented hearts. Never again.

“This is probably the best time of the year for us. We’re just waiting for those desperate last-minute buys, just so we can see the ashen look on their faces when they find out we’ve had a price hike,” says Nora Martinez, lead chocolatier of Sweets.

Like many other holidays celebrated in the United States, Valentine’s Day has become a consumer-based celebration used to fill the void within each and every one of us with babies in diapers and false promises. I have decided to fill my void with Irish coffee and cheese cake. No rom- coms will be found in my queue, no rose petals will be found decaying in my waste basket, and there will be no tissues saturated with the burning tears of regret in my bed.

The only thing Valentine’s Day is good for are the mountains of discounted chocolates in the days to come. I am single, I am bitter, and I have no regrets.

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