My contribution.

To History Matters.

[written yesterday]

Sometimes you want to scream.

“Is everything ready?”
“Oh yes, everything’s paid for and organised.”

Oh, if only that were true.  Your day consisted of constantly yawning following a slightly sleepless night which left you hungry for sleeping tablets.  The general gossip about the workplace was one of low morale and bitterness.  You played Uno and found pink pictures for the cover of a magazine. 

You want to sing along to your [old pink-mini] iPod on the bus but are wary of the stares [glares?] you may get from strangers.  The girl next to you almost falls asleep on your lap.  You briefly wish that you were her, that you had the opportunity to enter the Land of Nod.  But your head is full of thoughts.  Too many thoughts. 

And then you get home and your Tabatha-Cat greets you warmly, hungrily.  Bless her.  You indulge in wrapping gifts and admiring your new shoes, which are just perfect for sightseeing next week in Amsterdam. 

Later, you read your emails.  And you want to scream.  Instead you phone your Mother but she isn’t home.  Your mind is a whirl of angry thoughts and panicking emotions. 

Sometimes you wish you were little again so that you could kick your big brother in the shins to show how frustrated you are.  Darn. 

You wonder how your ancestors coped with the little things that become huge things.  Did your great-great grandmother, the Blacksmith’s daughter, panic and get flustered?  Is that why she became an alcoholic?  Would your great-nana see the amusement deep within the pain and annoyance?  Maybe you should just stick your head in the oven, like your nana always threatened to do.  Would that make all your problems disappear?

You’re getting married on Saturday and everything was perfect.

But now your little bridesmaid, over in Prague, has no shoes.  No blinkin’ shoes!  And your world has tumbled into some crack in the pavement …

Sometimes you just want to scream.


To Xanga.

[written today]

The shoe fiasco is rectified.  I have no more days left at work.  There was a dead fly in my Ribena which I almost swallowed.  I’m not allowed to open any cards or presents till after we’re wed.  I can’t wait that long – *stamps foot in toddler mode*.  Today I had my wedding hair trial.  It’ll be less of the curly and more of the straight.  I feel as though I could sleep for England.  We’re off to the cinema this evening to see The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning.  It’s the last time I shall ever enter a cinema as a never-married woman. 

Oh, and I’m thinking about getting excited tomorrow …

please God bless all the bloggers in all the bloglands xxx Elsabeth

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12 comments

  1. All the preparation is over now and you have to just relax and wait for your day.  I wish you and blokey all the happiness in the world. Please remember that the first year is the toughest but after that it is very sweet. I will keep a good thought for you  this weekend. Enjoy Amsterdam it is lovely. Be well.

  2. Isn’t it a shame that people who work in schools feel the need to organise their weddings around the school term? We have a teacher who’s also getting married on Saturday – she came in for assistance with her wedding songs (she’s not IT literate) and it made me think of you, and how the students must see it – it’s a holiday, Miss goes off and comes back with a new name… May everything go uber-smooth over the next few days. Enjoy it as much as you can

  3. The fact that she’s not IT literate didn’t make me think of you, the fact that you’re both getting married on the same day…I felt the need to clarify that one

  4. RYN: LOL!  Yes!  He knows how the vacuum operates! The one we use now was his before we got together – so that wouldn’t be an issue….  The question is: Would he think of vacumming if I don’t tell him it needs to be done or would he not think to look as he isn’t used to doing that task?

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