I am sick of the thread. SICK OF IT.
There is thread everywhere.
I wake up in the morning because I feel some in my mouth.
I have thread in my hair. And small sequins too.
I have thread on my sweaters.
There’s thread in the bathroom.
There’s thread e-v-e-r-y f-r-i-g-g-i-n’ p-l-a-c-e I turn to.
Contrary to what you might’ve been led to believe by now, I haven’t moved to a thread mill- its the half stitched clothes I’m trying on all day long from whence these lovely things originate. This is, by far, the most hated part of the wedding for me. I tried on ONE shirt SIXTEEN times today. SIXTEEN. Every time I had to stand about getting measured and re-measured and poked by pins and … getting touched in weird places (we will not go there). I get pulled out of bed at odd hours on weekend mornings to change right there and then… and excuse me, but its cold.
I look, to put it in my sister’s words, like a druggie. I have black shadows under my eyes, there’s thread or a sequin stuck in my hair, I haven’t put on makeup in days and the CFA exam prep is driving me up the wall.
At work, I’ve just been posted to a new division and the work load is insane. I love every minute of it but… there’s no time for anything else! Right now, my routine goes something like:
5:00 Get up to study
7:30 Get ready for office
6:00 Leave work. Hit the gym
8:00 Arrive home. Get insulted by mum for not having any shoes or clothes ready for the wedding- must we go over this every single day?! Say ‘What the fuck’ loudly enough for Matt to hear and snigger over. He goes around telling everyone I said the ‘f’ word. Tell him to fuck off. That makes him laugh louder. He’s going to put up a video of me saying that. Fine. What ever the fuck.
12:00 Check to see if someone is online. He’s not.
1:00 Check to see if someone is online. He’s not.
1:15 Check if someone is online. He’s… you guessed it… NOT.
2:00 He’s online! Me: I’m going to sleep. Him: Good.
2:00 and 20 seconds Gone to sleep.
5:00 Get up and study.
And then my sister says I look like a druggie.
And my work colleagues are startled when I pull out my laptop, find a thread stuck to it and burst into tears.
I… I think I need a hug.