It has been a little over seven months since my last Monday post. My hiatus from blogging was due to the all consuming nature of my latest endeavor: Motherhood. Even as I attempt to get back on that blogging horse, my little side-kick is vying for my attention. This motherhood thing has been, and is, an amazing adventure, and when I get a chance, I will tell you all about it in my next book in the Flirting Impaired Trilogy (tentatively titled ” ‘Bye Intelligent Design“). For now however, in recognition of my wedding anniversary I give you long awaited next chapter of Evolution of a Bridezilla…..
Bride Elect (Evolution of a Bridezilla)
Chapter Fifty—School’s Out For Summer…
The last week of work prior to the end of the school year was only three days—two and half technically, but it might as well have been a full seven days. Time dragged on at a rate slower than a person might read out names at a grad garden party. I was done and ready to go on holidays.
Sure, there was always something to do at work—but that doesn’t necessarily mean I was in any shape to do it to my usual calibre. There was no lengthy list of words to describe my mindset. I was just done—that’s it, and that’s all. This mindset seemed to permeate all aspects of my world. It was just too easy to be frustrated, or ‘done’ with making meals, house cleaning, laundry, writing…
Writing?! Yes, my maturity plummeted to the point where the daily word quotas of JuNoWriMo became ‘stupid-poopy-snot-heads’. I was tired, and I was long over-due for my nap. Naps. Ah yes! I hadn’t enjoyed a good old afternoon snooze in well over a month, and I was getting markedly cranky.
We were set to leave for BC in a week, and I still had to push through one more day of work. I also had to pick up my completed bouquets, get my ring cleaned, and get my haircut. My mom had just finished the vinarterta, and I needed to decorate it, and find some kind of box that would secure its safe passage to BC. I also had to catch up on all the neglected work around the house and yard. All that and I still had four more days of these stupid-poopy-snot-head word quotas.
It wasn’t exactly as if I was wishing time away, because I wasn’t. There were moments left and right that I was taking in and stashing into my permanent memory stores. My niece, for example, was all aglow on the day of her grad formal. She and her boyfriend had that glow of youth and optimism—that shiny near-perfection you don’t realize you have until you don’t have it any more. They were beautiful, so beautiful I nearly cried. (I had steeled myself by shopping at Canadian Tire earlier in the week).
Prior to that was Father’s Day, and watching my dad play with all his new toys was also a joy to behold and one locked in the photographic memory storage of my head. Of course there was also my students’ graduation, and of course, my stagette. Some memories were blurred slightly by alcohol, but still accessible enough for full memory recall. My days were chalk full of “moments”, but sadly, my last few days at work were not among these “moments”.
If anything I was just frustrated with time and space. Moments that I wanted to just drink in seemed to zip by at break-neck speeds. Moments that were so dry and mind-numbing seemed to make glaciers move at light speed—by relative comparison. If I were of a self-important personality, I would have found the whole thing irritating and insulting. Nevertheless, I was at a loss to understand why a bridezilla had to suffer so.
After all, how “life and death” was my presence at work anyway? Anything there could easily wait until August after I had had a chance to distance myself, and recharge. I suspected that after all the intensity of our wedding, and all the intensity of the lead up to our wedding, heading back to work at a time when everyone else was gone would be soothing not to mention productive. At the very least, anything I came up with in August would be heads above anything I would scrape together (or pull out my ass) now.
To recap: emotionally rich time chalk full of “moments”, and I am done.