Happy Valentine’s Day, chickadees!
This is a holiday that I generally have on the back burner, because it interferes with the celebration of my birthday, but it has always been a good excuse to have a heart-shaped or themed birthday cake.
I’m not really the Valentine’s Day festivities type. Something about over-priced and underwhelming dinner reservations makes me feel cranky instead of romantic.
Maybe also that I spent the first 20 years of my life Valentine-less might have something to do with it.
If you are the Valentine’s Day type though, no judgement. I’m not in the position to judge anyone for showing a little affection.
All we need is love, chicks.
JW’s got class tonight, so I’ll be spending my Valentine’s Day with my bff JD, working it out at candlelit yoga.
I think it sounds like a pretty nice way to spend the evening.
It’s got to be more relaxing than last night.
Last night, I dragged myself off of my couch to go to bells, where I hadn’t been in several weeks.
Skipping bells for two weeks is never a good idea, and I’m reminded of why again this morning as my shoulders and legs ache like they’ve been holding up the weight of the world.
When I got to class last night, G the Russian embraced me, wished me a happy birthday, and asked if I turned 23.
And then laughed maniacally.
I’m glad I’m at the age where it’s hysterical for someone to call me 23.
He then proceeded to work me to the bone while techno music played in the background, stopping only to correct my posture or declare that he was proud of me.
Proud of what, I’m not sure, but I’ll take all the positivity I can get.
I’m cruising into this one with my eye on the weekend, chicks.
Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it!