Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog. I suppose you could call it the 'Bridget Jones' Diary' (for the wedding industry); I've created it really as a way for me to vent about my upcoming nuptials without boring my nearest and dearest about things that, well, just aren't that important to them but are all I seem to think about now I'm a fully fledged member of the Engagement Club.

Saturday, 23 July 2011

Bridal Bubble....Burst

Whilst trying not to be one of those Brides that sit there happily in their own little Bridal Bubble, sheltered from the rest of the world, I have recently had to come to terms with the fact that I am, indeed, one of them. 

Everyone that knows me knows how strongly I feel about the following.  I actually believe that I was a former Royal (or equivalent to) in my previous life.  I just wasn’t put on this earth to work.  Don’t get me wrong, I have a full time job and would not leave work (unless I actually needed to), but no job ever sits well with me.  I used to work part time (18 hours a week to be precise) and I loved it.  Everyone told me I’d get too bored and I’d be practically begging to go back to work full time.  Erm, no.  Far from it.  If it weren’t for my love of lots of new, shiney, beautiful things, I’d still be in that job!
Yesterday I was busy at work.  I had to get my brain to focus on the job in hand.  I burst my Bridal Bubble and was back in the real world.  After ten minutes, I’d heard the muttering and mumbling (to put it nicely) of a colleague having a bad day (I think they hate work as much as me but haven’t mastered how to hide it like I try to).  After an hour, I’d been shouted at by a client.  Sorry, I forgot I was meant to be a psychic Mrs X.  I did really know who you were and where you were calling from without you telling me, I just thought it would help pass the time to play a guessing game with you.  Honest.  Somehow, this was MY fault.  By 11.30 am, I’d been called a horrible name which I’d rather not disclose and after repeating myself about 9 times, as Mrs Y wasn’t listening, and was told I was absolutely disgusting subsequently resulting in Mrs Y putting the phone down.  

I’ll tell you now, if that’s what happens when I come out my Bubble, I’m not coming out any time soon!

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