Walking Through Treacle

It's 5.30am and my Fibro is conspiring against me. My legs feel like I'm wearing these - 

whilst being dangled over the edge of a bloody large shelf. My brain then decides to join in the argument by whizzing through all of the things that are currently playing on my mind (lack of job, wedding, the price of fish). Then BINGO! I am wide awake and camped out on the sofa with a cup of tea, Planet Rock radio and 2 expectant Yorkie's. From a personal point of view life would be much simpler if brains had an 'off' switch and then I could sleep a bit more soundly if not for those pesky heavy legs.
People probably think me slightly odd in that the impending nuptials don't fill me with a sense of overwhelming excitement at the moment. A certain level of dread yes, but that is only down to the fact that I'm convinced I'll look physically awful in whatever I choose to wear; and stress - can I call it that? It's more of a low level 'pissed off - ness' kinda stress. The type that manifests itself usually when you are having gargantuan weddings with 100's of guests and you're told you can't invite this person without inviting that one, and if you don't invite So and So's brats you'll upset them etc etc. Well guess what. If you invite just 5 people - yes that's the amount you can count on one hands worth of fingers, you will still get this level of shite from certain quarters and then seriously wish you could un-invite the perpetrator to allow you to get on and have the day You want. I have an overwhelming urge to speak my mind but I'm biting my lip so as not to worsen the non existent relationship I already have with these individuals. It's no biggy really. I'm not asking to sacrifice a child at the altar before I say my vows so why the agro? Let me make spell it out-

• I'm generally not a hypocrite so if I really can't stand someones guts I won't be 2 faced play nice and schmooze with them/invite them to my wedding/barmitzvah/birthday piss up. Believe me, if I loathe you then you don't want to be in my company when the alcohol is flowing. You might hear a few home truths.
• Just because someone is 'family' it doesn't mean they have to be there when you have stipulated that it's just a small do. Accept this people and move on.
• Traditions do not have to be adhered to. The groom does not have to wear a suit and the bride does not have to wear a hideous concoction that would look more at home covering a bog roll. We do not have to have an engagement, a show off diamond bling ring, a wedding list that will leave most people hyperventilating, a stag do, a hen do nor are we forbidden to see each other the night before/the morning of because it's unlucky. We don't have to pay a jumped up photographer vast amounts of cash to boss us around either. If we want tongue out rockin it selfies as a memento of our day then so be it.
• I do not have to take my husband to be's surname. This is the 21st century and I am the last of my family to carry my surname, so out of immeasurable respect to my parents who short of a seance can't be there, I'll hang on to it thank you.

I firmly believe that as our dosh has paid for the registry office, cake and meal we can do what we bloody well like. If I want to walk down the 'aisle' wearing my lucky pants and my favourite New York t-shirt with a bouquet of writhing grass snakes instead of flowers then I jolly well will (don't worry I won't ). If the groom wants to wear a paint splattered t-shirt, holey jeans and Converse then go for it. I'm not doing this for show or to make a nice photo to put on the wall that you can brag to your friends about. 

There's a lot to be said for eloping. That is all I can say.

I have more pressing matters to worry about today. In a few hours I'm getting my hair cut for the first time in 2 years. Not only that but I'm trusting the local college students to do it (cheapskate) and I'll be there for hours! Then later on I'm getting pierced by a trainee. A decision I may live to regret but I'm all for helping out. If I'm honest I am bricking it but there you go. Lets just put it down to a mid life crisis. If anyone has any bright ideas as to how I can get a girly 6 pack in 8 weeks then I'm open to suggestions - don't forget I'm not as pliable as I used to be. In the mean time it's back to crocheting on the exercise bike.

This is my before photo by the way :)

P.S. Ok so I have a confession to make. I didn't get my lip pierced after all. That sensible side of my brain kicked in and I realised I'd look a right Tit with 2 piercings so close together. 46 is too old to pass for an Emo after all. I did however get my hair cut. I was at the college for 2 hours and it was sooo relaxing I could've dropped off. The poor student was a little lacking in confidence but she did a wonderful job and it only cost me £4.50. Yes, four flippin pounds and fifty pence. Support your local college I say.