Friday is Red Rose
Day. I know this because I write it on
my board before leaving school on Thursday.
Then I head to the grocery store.
At the store, they’re
having a sale on a dozen roses ($6) because apparently graduation season is
winding down, and now the store is stuck with a glut of flowers. Sure, they’re not the best roses, but they’re
not bad, either, especially for $6.
So, I buy myself a dozen. Red ones.
I like roses, and like them in
all colors, but my favorite ones are red or white, probably white more than
red, but they don’t have white ones, so I buy myself a dozen blood-red roses.
I get them all cut down,
arranged in water, add the special flower crystals, and … voila … instant
happiness, which is muchly needed after the super-sucky day I’ve had at
work. Mega sucky. Suck the suckiest sucko of suck-all days.
It’s Red Rose Day. Get some for a friend or a spouse or a
sibling or yourself. You never know; it
just might change the world.
Even if it doesn’t, the
color and smell will improve, and sometimes that’s all anyone needs.
