I took my wedding dress on the bus yesterday. Probably not the most sensible thing to do, but it’s the only way I have of getting anywhere!
I went to see the lady who’s going to do the alterations for me; I turned up a bit frazzled after getting lost in the suburbs of Beeston and trying to find my way the old fashioned way – with a map and a general sense of direction. I still have no idea how I managed to make it on time, but I did! Flustered, in a big black dress and big black boots I turned up on this sweet lady’s doorstep. To give credit where it’s due, she didn’t bat an eye lid but just sent me upstairs to pop the dress on. The best bit was her reaction – “Oh, that’s so you, isn’t it?” It was nice to hear that after so many people telling me that it’s not the sort of dress they ever expected me to wear. She’s able to do the alterations and it’ll only cost me £40 to get it done. YAY!
Hairy and I have started sending out invitations. Posted a load of them on Tuesday and been giving them out in person when we’ve had meetings organised. It’s slightly terrifying – I’m so invested in the little blighters because I made them all by hand and I just want them to be loved! Also it means that it’s really happening and we should be getting RSVPs back soon on our website – IT’S SO PURPLE.
I’ve had another surprisingly sociable week with multiple meet ups and good conversations. We’ve got another one planned on Saturday which will be interesting as I’m working on Sunday! It feels like we’re not getting enough time to catch our breath (in my case one that turns into a horrible hacking coughing fit), but I like being busy. It means that we’re really getting somewhere even though it’s scary that it’s nearly March. How are we already a third of the way through the year?!
Sadly I’m still under the weather in a pretty major way – horrendous cough that’s keeping me awake at all hours, and that awful feeling of not being able to breathe properly.
Even so, I’m getting there. As always, it’s one step at a time! When I was at school I used to wear high heels; not stilettos, but high enough that I always had sore feet by the end of the day. I remember one day it was really bad because my sister and I had caught the train home and then walked to my Auntie’s for a family visit. I remember thinking that my feet hurt so much that I was just going to give up and sit down, but instead my sister helped me to count the steps in tens and then fifties so that I could manage each bit of the walk. It seems like such a small thing, but it’s something that I still do now on a long walk with aching feet – count the steps and make the minor milestones so you can deal with the overwhelming whatever-it-is slowly but surely.