I saw once where the woman says to her friend that her dress doesn’t make her look fat, it’s her fat that makes her look fat.
I cringe inwardly and set down the tray. It’s obvious we don’t tell our friends the honest truth about body size. I’m convinced Anika is just telling me I don’t need to lose weight, out of kindness. Well, as much as I appreciate her being nice, that’s not really the sort of encouragement I need to exercise and shed a few pounds. I think I’ll carry on with the aerobics I intend to do from now on.
“Phone for you, boss lady!” Anika bellows from the office.
“Stop calling me boss lady,” I whisper, taking the handset off her.
“No.” She says matter-of-factly before walking away.
“Hello?” I say into the phone.
“Hi, Em, it’s me.” It’s Lara. “Your dresses have come in but you don’t have to try them on today if you don’t want to—”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes!”
“Wait, Emily!”
“Yes?” I was nearly about to hang up, but I pause.
“I just…” Lara seems anxious. “I was just going to say that you don’t need to rush to try these dresses on or anything—”
“Are you crazy, Lolz? My wedding is right around the corner! I need to find a dress straight away!” Without another word, I hang up the call. I don’t have a clue as to why Lara sounded like she was actually trying to put me off trying on gowns that will most definitely be needed quite soon. I mean, she’s got to have time to do sewing alterations on whatever dress I chose. It’s not like there’s loads of time left until my big day, as it is!
I say tah-rah to Anika just as Fiona arrives to help with the lunch shift. My good mood is heightened from my morning walk. I’ve still got my wrist and ankle weights on and I’m not even feeling any muscle burn yet. I’ve got energy to spare it seems. It’s about time I felt this good really. I haven’t been the most jovial of brides-to-be lately. It’s just been one miserable stressor after the next. I’m so pleased I’m finally getting that bridal glow about me.
Wait. Is that a pregnancy thing? Well I don’t care. I’m in such a good mood that I’m determined to make bridal-glow a new thing. I can see my reflection in store windows as I walk past them, I really do think my skin is glowing with happiness that I’ll soon be wed to my soul mate. And I really think I’ll be able to lose enough weight in time for our big day. I swear this positive wedding attitude is capable of pumping happy blood into my facial features. That must be the rosy glow to my cheeks that I’m seeing and feeling.
I suppose I was right about not caring what people think of my long socks either. I’m still getting a few beeps from people driving by in their cars, and some passers-by do look down at my socks. They also look up to my face though, so I’m pretty sure they too are witnessing my bridal-glow. Surely they know I’m a bride-to-be. There isn’t a woman on this street who’s happier than me at this very moment, I’d say. And just imagine how thrilled I’m going to be on my actual wedding day.
With a hop and a skip I carry on down the pavement. This pulls my hamstring slightly as the weight upon my ankles kicks in. I’ll get enough exercise by simply walking, so I decide not to skip at all for the rest of the day. I wouldn’t want to cause myself muscle injury before my big day!
There’s someone I owe thanks to for lifting my spirits greatly this morning. I fully intend on saying hi to Rolland —the electric box sitting wizard— as I round the corner. But as I do I discover the top of the green box is empty. My spirits are briefly dashed now. I was quite looking forward to seeing him perched up there. Ah well, he’s old, I don’t suppose he can sit up there for too long without feeling some butt-hurt from the hard metal box beneath his bony old bum. Come to think of it, at the rate I’m exercising lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up with a bony bum of my own soon.
Thoughts of smaller hips cheers me up again, but only for a few seconds.