Three Hundred Reasons Why We'll Never Write for MTV

Daria looked at the calender and frowned. Another Valentine's Day. She sighed and made her way to the mailbox out front. For some reason, she was always the first one home on days like this. She didn't want to get the mail. Nothing was ever for her. Especially today.

She opened the box, peeked and rummaged through the short stack. Seventeen for Quinn, a flyer from that butcher Dad's been using, six bills and something that looked like a legal notice for Mom. Screw it. She slammed the mail box door and stood up.

That bald kid was across the street checking his family's mailbox. The kid with the big head and round nose. Daria thought hard to remember what his name was. Charlie? Chunk? She shrugged but waved. The round headed kid waved back. He didn't have any mail either. Daria thought he looked like he was about eight or ten. Daria ran a hand through her red hair as she turned to go back inside.

At least he didn't have to worry about girls yet.

Daria wondered if there was anything on television. Maybe some sort of special to get her mind off of today.