This is a post-fitting, post-WI and post-interview post. I am currently the poster girl of posts.
None of these was a happy experience.
Firstly the fitting. You remember my alchemy moment dear Reader? Well, the tarnish is back. The dress was fine (although oddly both paler and deeper in colour than I remember) but I was...not. It was fine. But I don't look amazing or anywhere near it. I look okay, considering. Considering that I'm fat, I suppose. I look in the mirror and I don't feel joy or excitement, I feel sad and apologetic and I don't want to look for any longer than I have to. Situation normal I guess. Still, at least I KNOW I've done my best to lose weight for our wedding - I think if I'd faffed about and not tried as hard as I have, I would really hate myself. The fitting lady was lovely as I joked and apologised my way through a frenzy of embarrassment and self-consiousness about being semi-naked in front of her (and my mum). She told me stories of bigger brides (including one that lost 4st, bought her dress and then put on the 4st again before it arrived. Got to be Lighter Life) and asked me "Are you healthy?" (yes), "Does he love you?" (yes) and told me that was all that mattered. I know it's true. Or it ought to be. And yet...
Post WI. Despite some very tough starvation days, I had not lost so much as a 1lb. Of course there was the hen day but the tea was very dainty and I had 2 cocktails, 1 G&T and 1 glass prosecco. I'm not sure that that balances out the 4 starving days.
Post interview. It was really tough and, quite frankly, totally over the top. A written exercise, a presentation as well as that role play and the actual interview. I think I did okay. And when I got the call this afternoon, some 5 hours after the 3 1/2 hour interview, I thought it was a good sign; it was not. I did not get the job. I kind of know that I'm more upset and disappointed than I would have been pleased and happy had I got the job, but it still feels ugh.
It's also post-hen. It was a lovely day. It was SO nice to see all my friends there and after a while I forgot to worry about whether J was having a good time or whether anyone was talking to M. We started off with a charleston lesson - surprisingly tough, I really ached the following couple of days - but great fun. Then tea in a lovely pub; that sounds odd but really wasn't. Then cocktails at the most unusual bar - it was like Heston Blumenthal does cocktails. Mine came with liquid nitrogen poured in (this was at approximately the same time as a girl was having her stomach removed because of that same ingredient!), another was flamed and a third had a balloon coming out of it which the barman lit the string and caused it to explode, releasing lemon scented gas into the air. Then back, relatively sober by 10.30pm! And I was fine the next day - well, except for a bit of post-Charleston ache. Perhaps it's my halo that's weighing heavy and bulking out that dress?!