Ok, I SO wasn't going to post anything about Valentine's Day, mostly because I have no Valentine, no reason to wish anybody a happy Valentine's Day (other than automatic niceness to which I seem to be prone), no desire to acknowledge Valentine's Day, and I'm not one of those people that celebrate a sort of Un-Valentine's Day ("Singles Awareness Day," I believe they call it).

I wasn't going to piss and moan about my love life that's about as hot as a dead wet salmon, or about how I'm still salty over my ex-girlfriend, or how all the other women after her I never got a single date with (ok, it's only 3, but still, I made a serious effort). I even wasn't going to complain about how college (my next big opportunity for a girlfriend) is 6 agonizing months away, the large portion of which will be still recovery.

I wasn't going to complain about how I really am still broken up over my ex-girlfriend (it's been, what, 7 months now?) and how she said she would be with me and help me out when I'm recovering from my surgery and then left me, or how her family has been nothing but nice to me after we broke up (and how it makes me feel good, and oh-so-horrible at the same time), and how I still haven't even heard from her, and how I try to pretend I don't care but really I'd just like to hear from her- even though I realize it's over.

However.....

I think I just did.

My parents are all on my case because "recovery from surgery is 90% mental attitude" and even though "I know that the drugs are depressants" I "need to improve my attitude." Yeah. I was moping around the house all day yesterday and that's all I heard from them. JEEZ. Get off my back! Let me mope a little, ok? Besides, I'm getting fucking sick and fucking tired of the constant pain and annoyances from my back and my neck and my legs and the medicine that no longer really makes me feel any better or the assurances that I've got "SAD" and that a little sunlight will make me feel all better.

Fuck that.
I just want to be miserable ok?