I think the word that sums up this week is exhausted. Or weary. And it’s only Wednesday. I’m so utterly tired of my path that I’ve got half a mind to just to shuck it all and blaze a new one without provisions or planning. I’m tired of being tired and being made to feel that who I am and what I do is wrong. Consistently.
So I’m closing my ears and turning my heart away because this shit is slowly killing me. And you can’t be bothered to care because you can’t see the forest for the trees.
With a little less than three weeks to go, all-in-all I’d have to say I’m in pretty good shape for my wedding. Especially when said wedding was planned in about four months time.
We’re just that good.
In all honesty, I’m shocked to have gotten this far, especially when my ultimate goal in life was to not have a wedding. Not at all. While other little girls were dreaming about yards of charmeuse, chiffon, tulle and silk, I was playing tackle football with the boys.
That’s not to say that I didn’t want to get married. Quite the opposite. But getting married and having a wedding are beasts of a different kind.
With that being said, if I hear the words, “…but this is your special day…,” just one more time, that special little person will have a special little slap upside the head. Because my special little day does not involve make-up, dresses, flowers or favors.
Thank the stars I love my special not-so-little man.