Dinner Date With Death

I'm trying to be all positive in the face of Valentine's Day. I'm not going to play the yearly game where I get all upset because I dont' have a boyfriend. I mean, honestly, why should February 14 be any worse than the, oh, 364 other nights I spend sleeping alone. Besides, trying to develop a relationship would completely eat into the time I have alotted each day to spend convincing myself that my career keeps me far too busy to have a boyfriend.
So I was getting there. I wasn't even going to sit with a single friend on the couch and whine or get drunk. I was going to have a normal day. I was going to go to work, go to the gym, meet up with A* for dinner, then go home and watch Scrubs before bed. No feeling bad about not having a man in my life. All self-affirming without being self-pitying. Rah Rah mental health. Suck It, Hallmark.
And then MSN.com decides to publish this little piece.
Yes, because being single isn't only depressing at times. Apparently it will be the death of me.
Awesome.
Oddly, it's not being single that is slowly convincing me to take a nice hot bath with my laptop. It's fun little fluff pieces of journalism like this that remind me that not only am I unloveable, but that I'm going to die because of it.