You know, I never thought I'd be glad for the existance of influenza, but it did give me a lovely excuse to spend so-called "Valentines Day". I don't know why the martyrdom of some dead Roman makes people want to give gifts and act all foolish - it's one of the poorest excuses for a holiday there is, an invention of the Catholic Church to divert the Roman's attention away from celebrating Lupercalia, I read. We'd be much better off running about and stabbing one another in the back, à la Brutus and Ceasar, but no matter. It's a horrible time of year that makes one regret not being encumbered by romantic entanglements. But on the positive side - well, my father gives my mother diamonds every year, and I certainly wouldn't want to waste my money on diamonds for some stupid girlfriend, so that's that. I'm certainly not bitter that no one's given me anything in commeration of the death of some stupid Roman.
But I hope everyone enjoyed their exchanges of gifts of chocolates and flowers and VD and all that nonsense, ha.
In other news, Mme Pomphrey's kicked me out of the infirmary, so I suppose I'm meant to go back to classes, but instead I'm going back to sleep in the dormitory. Someone wake me for dinner, please?