- Pay the bill myself- I could do that.
- Beg him to pay it- offends my sense of dignity, and capitulation would come at a price.
- Let it all slide, and be forced to go to the library two or three times a week, for a 30 minute session with library hags hanging over my shoulder- ugh...
After Christmas, this is a bad time of year for me. There are three problematic days within a two week period:
- The 7th- my anniversary. Fraught with awkwardness this year.
- The 14th- don't even get me started. I *hate* Valentines Day. What's wrong with me, that I'm surrounded by women who are apparently worth buying boxes of candy, flowers and cards for, while I never have been? Yes, I KNOW!! I'm being childish. It's just a physical phony display, and I'd feel dismayed if I received such a show and couldn't put my heart into returning the sentiments. But it's sort of like my birthday and the tone of my life in general- every year just highlights that I'm essentially a failure.
- The 17th- My first fiance proposed to me on this day, and declared his love for me. He was the only one who was ever really able to make me believe it, and then (a year later) I discovered I'd been duped, that he was shallow and a ladies man. So every time the 17th rolls around, I'm thinking "please, please, will someone prove that Daniel Haugen wasn't the closest to the real thing I'll ever have, that I was worth more than that?" Nobody ever does.