Aren't you supposed to love someone EVERY day?

Ah, Valentine's Day. The day of love. The day of flowers. The day chocolate factory employees receive their bonuses. The day largely blamed for an increase in suicide.

I've never quite understood the purpose of Valentine's Day. When I was in grade school, Valentine's Day meant filling out little tear-out cards for your schoolmates and then taking extra care to make that one special card for the one special little person. It meant lots of yucky candy with meaningless sayings. It meant seeing who received the most cards on their desk. In high school, Valentine's Day meant candy grams, the secret hope that you're going to get one, and the disappointment when you don't. I completely ignored Valentine's Day in college altogether.

Now that I'm an "adult", so to speak, I appreciate Valentine's Day for the gallant effort by corporations to turn every candy into sparkling hearts wrapped in tin foil. My theory is that the yummier it looks, the yummier it is when you gobble it up. (Same goes for people, mind you.)

Still, one can't help but notice that this day polarizes people into two groups: those who love the day and those who hate it. So in order to appease both parties, I've decided to dedicate today's post to something that anyone can easily attain, no strings attached: Infectious Mononucleosis.

Or Mono. Or affectionately dubbed "the kissing disease". I had the misfortune of having it for the SECOND time last Fall, and let me tell you, having Mono is like dying slowly, bit by bit. It is THAT fun.

Mono is caused by the Epstein-Barr Virus or EBV. It is generally transmitted through saliva and once you get it, you will have the virus for life. Despite the horrible symptoms of the virus, doctors do not advise quarantine because most people have the EBV already.

I first got Mono as a freshman in college. I wish I could say that it was the result of a passionate rendevouz in dark corners, but alas, since I didn't kiss anyone while in college, the truth is probably closer to poorly washed dishes in the cafeteria. Not exactly Harlequin material, is it.

And now I leave with a little anecdote from today:

As I was walking out of Walgreen's, I walked to what I thought was my car. It was my first day outside since I'd quarantined myself inside 5 days ago, so naturally I was a bit confused. I realized my mistake, then walked and coughed to my car.

"Wrong car?" I turned around to see what must have been the owner of the car. He was tall, carrying an armload of Valentine's Day gifts, and wore a grin from ear to ear.

"Yes" I smiled.

He laughed. "That's okay! You can come on in anyway. I'll take you home forever!"

I laughed, which made me cough even harder, and jumped inside my car just in case he was serious.

The End.