Deep down I’m a romantic, and over the years (okay, just one or two years), I’ve had some fairly good Valentine’s Days.  In fact I even met a long-term boyfriend at  a singles V-day party.

But yesterday did not turn into a silver lining kind of a day.  The low-point  was finding a note under my windscreen wiper (“Ooooo, look, a secret admirer has left me a declaration!”), from someone who had bumped into my car while parking (goodbye wing mirror).  Someone in a huge, white 4 x 4; someone whose huge, white 4 x 4 has a beeping monitor thing to help them avoid colliding with objects; and someone whose note directed me to their husband’s PA (“she’ll deal with it”).

And so it went from there … to a party in the right dress, in the right venue, with the right friends, but with the wrong crowd.  Entirely.

Luckily I woke up today and it was 15 February and I had Ferrero Rocher for breakfast.

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