Misanthropy.

I hate Valentine's Day. Not because it's a fake Hallmark holiday, although it is; not because it's based in Christian lore, although it is. I hate it because it is a day of GUILT for men.

The GUILT began when K's mother sent the entire family and then some a digital photo of the "beautiful roses" her husband bought for her. Then there was more GUILT when K left me a Kit-Kat bar this morning after I had implored her to not get me anything.

Am I missing anything else? Well, I was going to write a song for her (and make it an Almost Daily Song for you wonderful folks). Unfortunately, this is the chorus I came up with:

When we're together, nothing is ever the same
And if they ask me why,
I just reply,
"Because of my dear... um... whatsername?"

I don't think that would go over well, although if anyone wants to use it to facilitate a divorce, it'd probably be quite effective.