My sweetheart is south of the Mason-Dixon line on business. He gets to run around in shirt sleeves, I bundle up on this St. Valentine’s Day. He wines and dines with customers, I sine and cosine with tests. Tonight we’ll be snuggled naked under the covers but hundreds of miles apart; one on a Nokia, the other on an iPhone. Even though we have nearly a dozen Valentine’s Day under our belt I still got choked up when I left a handmade card on the kitchen counter, so he would be surprised at 4:30 this morning as he made his way to the airport.
I think I feel a little melancholy. Perhaps I’ll make popcorn.