"It's not that bad," the little voice told me as I swung through the double doors of the CVS Pharmacy down the street from my apartment. "It'll be easy," the voice continued to assure me. "Not like last time, not like last time when the machine broke down and ate the four rolls of film you brought in from New Years Eve...this time will be better." And I listened. I listened to this same little voice that has said to me "it'll be better next time" in seductive, sing-song reptition for years. Said it and been dead-wrong each time. I listened and I went into CVS Pharmacy and handed over my precious rolls of film to the one hour photo department; handed over the last three weeks worth of heavily documented, irreplacable moments in cooking that were meant to accompany the four meals I had concocted as the perfect 'dates'. It only took an hour for the phone call to arrive: "Sorry, ma'am...your film was accidentally exposed during development."
Valetine's Day in t-minus 50 odd hours, and four meals to make! Anybody want to be my date: redux?