I need strength.
I'm off to The Teacher Friend's wedding today. I am very fond of said Teacher Friend. She has been more than willing to drink wine in copious amounts since the demise of Larry & Pant. But to be entirely honest, I'm just not sure I'm in the place for celebrating love and relationships and ever-afters. Bitter, perhaps. Skeptical, definitely.
The Teacher Friend has offered a bed in the honeymoon suite for the night. I've taken extra blankets so that I can hole up the sides of my car and sleep under its belly. Nothing says you're single quite like your head under a pillow in an attempt to drown out the sounds of "Oh Teacher Wife." "Oh! Naughty Teacher's Husband." I feel ill already.
So I've spent the better part of this morning doing the following:
1) Making up dreadfully contagious bug that has created a barrier nursing situation at the parental unit (one cannot, possibly, care for one's own child when one is in such ill-health.)
2) Considering telling the truth ("Teacher Friend, I'd love to come to your wedding but... well, I'm kind of Down With Love at the moment. Honestly, you'll be beautiful, but I'd rather spend my morning fantasising about removing Larry's balls with a blunt teaspoon. Oh, and thanks for all the support.") I still have to work with her next year. And I'm giving up smoking. I need at least ONE person on my side.
3) Searching the internet for emergency stand in Calvin Klein model escort to accompany to said wedding. (I think bride and groom might spend their night with their heads under the pillow, then, in an attempt to drown out sounds.)
4) Crying.
I'm off to said wedding. Soon. Because I like Teacher Friend muchly. Because I am the Yes Girl. And because HCG has given me a new lease on life.
Not to mention the dress that was purchased for said wedding. It accentuates post-break-up anorexia perfectly. And I might pop into every pub en-route "desperate for a wee" and try pick up a last minute replacement.
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