So, this past weekend re-affirmed in me three things:
- The only wedding I ever REALLY want to attend is my own.
- I REALLY can’t stand the tarts I work with.
- I am NOT having babies. Naturally.
Please, let me elaborate. So, Saturday, I was up sharpish cos I had to head down to Apapa for my boss’s wedding (the woman actually asked us to come there the evening before by SIX for a meeting, such selfishness, does she know where I live???). And because I am who I am, a freak for coming on time, I got to the reception area way on time, in the pouring rain. God, I’m too friggin dedicated. Even the bride was still around. Yup, she was 30 minutes late for her own wedding. I swore that this was not going to happen at mine. I hate tardiness.
I came in jeans but changed to a pretty lil thing I wore for my grad, with the silent hope that if I had to be here, let there be to least a few fine boys. I was disappointed. I had to thus sit through the whole wedding, be mostly ignored, just so that I would get to the reception and everyone would act like I was late. Oh, the insult. I told the other women that I was actually the first to arrive, but since they were tarrying I went over to the church.
I was an usher. And I stood for ages in heels, enduring old men’s calls and serving food and drinks. Want to see irony? I didn’t get any kip! Believe it. I waited till everyone had eaten, like the rest of the ushers, but somehow, when I went to the kitchen, some weird white guy with an odd accent started giving me a lecture about how the couple only paid for 250 people, and so far they had served 362 plate,s he was going to charge… bla …bla…
I didn’t care so much so I left. However, I did get a complimentary mug! It was very organized, and very cozy. I want mine like that. But with fewer people. Don’t need folks I don’t know or care about coming to my special day cos they’re looking for free food. Freeloaders! Yeah, it’s inevitable. You go to a wedding, you think about yours.
My colleagues, esp that older cow, kept looking at me and then giggling to another woman. It was cute at first, then it got annoying to the point that if she did it ONE MORE TIME, I would have said something … (*sigh*) You’d think she wasn’t a married woman.
Another thing struck me this weekend. Babies. Yeah, it was just one of those weekends. But that’s for another post.
Did I mention my sister got chickenpox? Well, she did. Was home since Wednesday, and I wouldn’t go near her with a 5 foot pole. Cos I admit, I am very attached to my skin. Probably the most rest she’s gotten since starting at that weird bank some months ago.