Cupid Calls It Quits

The day after Valentine's day, and Cupid's nowhere to be seen.  I'm thinking, early retirement.  Thousands of years shooting arrows, that's got to lead to some kind of tendonitis, not to mention, overall dissatification. The day after Valentine's Day, and Cupid's off to therapy for the body and mind.  Thousands of years trying to make a shidduch and the chubby little dude's done with the matchmaking. Even Cupid needs to kvetch now and then. Let's listen in on today's session with his shrink. "Seriously, I've had it with this job.  I'm exhausted.  My arm hurts.  I look stupid in this costume.  I thought I was applying for the bookkeeper gig, and before I know it, I'm in diapers and wings and they're telling me where to aim the arrow.  Personally, my goals are a little loftier than flying around, trying to get people to notice each other.  Do you think even once, I get a thank you note?  Where are my chocolates?  I could use a little love too, you know.  But year after year, I get bupkis.  I quit.  I resign,  I -- " "I'm sorry, Cupid, but time's up.  Let's pick this up again next year."