Protect me, protect me.

This time last year, I had just got my first adult job. Goodbye bright blue t-shirt with a hideous logo on the breast, hello ID cards and smooth telephone pick-up ("City morgue", my home phone greeting, was deemed inappropriate for the workplace).

I spent Valentine's Day in 2009 with a girl who loves to hold my hand and that was more than enough for me. We sat in corners of Melbourne and talked about various painful experiences we'd had recently. I wish she was in the country this year to be with on Sunday. I get to hug her soon, though, and that's enough for me.

If you want to find me tomorrow I'll be standing outside a bank with a humungous cup of tea and a terrified look on my face. Don't ask.