The Dress Factor

Marriage. Commitment of yourself (body, mind and soul) to another. I'm about to join that club (very happily) soon. In September, infact. I'm excited about it, of course. I'd just be more excited if I wasn't so broke. But that's a story (as my father says) for another day. The issue this session is the dress.

When I told my ex coworker, Chris, I was getting married, his eyes lit up. Not that he's all about the institute of marriage and all that jazz. nah. He was already, in his mind, composing a sketch of the dress he would make for me. I should have said, "Hell no" when he offered to do it to begin with. But instead, the jolly idiot I am, I said ok. Mistakes, and time, make a person wise. I smiled and fluttered my eye lids with joy. Oooh, a custom made dress! I'm old enough to know better, of course. When you allow a friend to do you such a tremendous favor, you'd better be damn sure they'll follow through. There was no doubt in my mind that Chris would not. I'd have to get on his ass to get any satisfaction. And I'm such a cream puff about EVERYTHING! I knew his work habits and I had the synopsis of his work ethic to a T: the minimal amount of effort necessary to keep ya on the payroll.

Well, fast forward half a year and whaddaya got? Me, sans a dress. I should be angry. But you know what? I didn't put a dime down on fabric, or labor or anything like that. I gave him only one piece of very valuable material, and that's time. I can't keep nursing the idea that he'll pull through in the end, I just can't. The reality is I have to move on from here. Pick up the pieces.

I'm sure you can relate. Doesn't it suck to be let down?