I don’t mean to jinx myself here or anything, but so far, nobody has asked me what I’m doing for Valentine’s Day. Massive result. V-day never used to mean anything to me when I was a teenager. Mostly, it all went over my head whilst I was deciding what was for dinner.  But as I’ve gotten older, it seems the pressure to have plans, a guy, or plans with a guy gets worse each year. WHYYYY????

Maybe you DON’T feel the pressure, in which case, you have my respect and I am a massive wiener. But each year the pretence that surrounds 14^th February makes me feel like we’ve stored up all our love for one single day, and then forgotten what it looks like for the rest of the year.

Valentine’s Day is excessive to every degree. It is invasive; it is grand; it is prolific to say…