That’s right, that ❤ counts as a heart. This is from the note that came with the flowers sent to me at work today by my sweet husband. We don’t usually do anything particularly extravagant for V-Day, but I guess I had mentioned more than once that I’d never had flowers sent to me, so he must’ve gotten the hints I were (somewhat) subconsciously dropping. And I’ll admit it: it’s kind of freaking awesome to have a stranger deliver you flowers at your place of employment. They came early enough in the day that I got plenty of smug*, sitting-next-to-flowers time.
So now I just have to wrap up my workday so I can go meet that sweet man of mine for some Valentine’s Day sushi. We’re going to check out Thelonious Monkfish, which I am super excited** about. Also, I look really cute*** today, if I do say so myself, which always feels like an accomplishment the day after a burlesque show when I’m running on fumes.****
So here’s to lurve. Happy Valentine’s Day!
* That’s right, I’ll admit to feeling smug.
** Dude, they have something called Gaga’s Monster Roll!
*** I’d have an artistic pictorial of my outfit for you if I was a proper blogger, but since I’m still getting my bloglegs, you’ll just have to make do with this awesome bathroom mirror shot (feel free to Photoshop a Pop Tart in there if you’d like):
Top: Urban Outfitters circa 2007; cardigan: Target via my friend Lucy at our clothing swap; skirt: J.Crew courtesy of gift card from my mama-in-law. Flat hair: shut up, I ran out of hairspray.
**** Fumes = six hours of sleep and all the glitter I couldn’t wash off this morning.