Tonight we are going to the evening celebration part of the wedding of a girl I work with and her new husband (who also works at my school). I have known her for 3 years and we became good friends really quickly, but she has been slowly drawing away from the friendship for the last couple of years (I am quite oblivious when it comes to these things so it took me a while to notice). Getting invited to the evening part of her wedding is one in a long list of signs that I see her as a much closer friend than she sees me. I am secretly disappointed as I really wanted to watch her get married ? they are getting married in a church so I could have gone along to watch the ceremony, which I would have really liked, but she didn?t ever say that that was an option so I was too proud to ask didn?t feel I could.
There are two mental approaches I could take to tonight?s wedding celebration.
The glass half full approach: Aah, it will be lovely to see friend and friend?s husband all loved up and married
. The weather is lovely for them, she will look stunning and there will be lots of people from work there to talk to. They both have good taste so the evening do will be classy, with great music. DH will get dressed up all smart and I will get to wear my new dress, which I was lucky to find so easily, and (hopefully) be told I look nice. I can spend the afternoon looking forward to it, beautifying, painting my toenails and choosing jewellery to go with the dress
. I will drink a couple of small glasses of wine and slow dance to romantic songs with gorgeous DH, and I won?t feel hungover in the morning. I am so happy for them both and it will be lovely! 
The glass half empty approach: I?m not looking forward to this at all. Secretly, my pride is still hurting about only getting invited to the evening bit, when she would have been invited to the main bit of mine in fact I would have kicked lesser friends off the list to fit her in. She is thin and gorgeous, both of which I currently consider crimes against me
. Everyone from work, who I am relieved not to be seeing for 6 weeks, will be there, including the bossy cow woman who has rudely assertively decided to gatecrash go to the church service to watch them get married, and will consequently be full of herself and gloating telling everyone all about it
. DH will have an inevitable crisis of confidence when he realises he can?t wear his normal uniform of jeans and trainers
even though he has known this for months and this will have 2 effects: firstly, I will get irrationally irritated with his faffing and his lack of confidence in how he looks in smart trousers and boots, and I will wish he was the sort of James Bond-like DH who could just snap his fingers and be confidently classy (even though I fancy the pants off him whatever he wears and despite his lack of confidence he will look great
), and secondly, he will be too flustered to notice my dress and will forget to tell me how nice I look, which I will interpret as him thinking ?bugger me, what is she wearing, maybe I should say something ? no, best not, she?ll have to change and we?ll be late? and so I will then have a crisis of confidence and get all needy, which will annoy him and cause him to have to spend 10 minutes pacifying me. Consequently we will leave the house in a mood with each other, with him an extra bit annoyed because he is now worried we will be late and his obsession with never being a millisecond late making me an extra bit annoyed too
. I can?t reach my toenails to paint them, feel too lazy to put on any make up and the beautifying will inevitably be a rush job in the half hour before we leave the house. It?s too nobbing hot to be dressed up anyway. I am stiff as a board a bit shy at these sorts of things and can?t loosen up and dance until I am half cut slightly merry and I can?t drink enough for that so I will just sit and get bored and cross while everyone else dances, and if DH looks like he is enjoying dancing I will decide that he fancies most of my workmates and I will get into a huff about this. It?s at a bloody vineyard and I can?t drink FFS. Oh, the irony. Is it too late to fake some pregnancy-related illness and not go?
Guess which mental approach SulkyPants Yomping is currently choosing to take?
