It’s Valentine’s Day. No offense to anyone in a relationship, but–balloons, chocolates, and candy–ick. Clearly I’m not in a relationship. And whereas most days I’m okay with that, I admit it–today it’d be nice to have someone to take a selfie with so we could post it on social media and make all the single people out there jealous. Now, what I’d do with this person the other 364 days of the year, I don’t know. Anyway, in order to NOT be jealous of all the lovely couples out there posting pictures, I’ve tried to stay off the internet today. I say tried–I’ve only been mildly successful.

This afternoon I started worrying about finances. That’s a great thing to do on a day when you already don’t feel great. Then I started getting a headache and maybe a fever blister, so I took a nap. Sometimes this is my best strategy when I can’t find a good-feeling thought. Unfortunately, the nap didn’t last long, and I woke up still overwhelmed. But then a friend who’s a great listener and always makes me laugh called, and we solved the world’s problems for almost an hour. Now I don’t feel fabulous, but I don’t feel awful either, which I consider an improvement.

I guess there’s something about getting your worries and concerns out–saying them to a friend, writing them down on paper (or the internet) that makes them feel more manageable. I guess it gives you room to breathe. That’s something I’ve been trying to do lately–breathe. (I’ve also been trying to stay off the internet today). I feel like my body is asking me to breathe, to slow down, in a dozen different ways, and I really am trying to give myself a break. And yet there’s all this stress. Wayne Dyer says you could search the world over and never find enough stress to fill up a bucket. That is, it’s all in your head. I would add, however, it’s also in your body. When I get worked up, I get a headache, maybe a fever blister. I break out in hives.

Put me in a bucket, Wayne.

Yesterday I told myself that I was going to take myself to a movie this afternoon. Since Valentine’s is the day of love, I reasoned, I might as well spend it with someone I care about. Alas, this plan didn’t happen. Instead, I went to the grocery store, where I bought a basketful of fruits and vegetables because I’m trying to add juices to my diet. I say trying because when I got home and made my first juice (spinach, celery, pineapple, and ginger), I discovered our blender is officially a wimp. Seriously, what’s the point of having blades and a motor if you’re no match for a stalk of celery? But whatever, I made it work. And you should have seen me drinking that green stuff. I felt so freakin’ healthy.

Then I had tacos for dinner.

Earlier when I was talking to my friend, I brought up a few bad days from my past–the day my dad went to prison, for example. I said, “Compared to that day, today was a breeze.” And not that I think a day has to be the worst day ever in order to be recognized as difficult. I really hate when you’re struggling and someone says, “It could be worse” or “There are starving children in India.” Granted, it could be worse–things can always be worse–and that doesn’t mean you’re not struggling right here, right now. Still, I do think it’s important to remember that things HAVE BEEN worse–not because pain is a contest–but because looking back can remind you what you’ve come through. It can remind you how strong and capable you are. It can remind you that even the worst situations can come to an end. In short, it can remind you to–

hope.