Some Days Will Always Be Better Than The Rest

 I was with my ex for 8 years 8 months and 8 days. I didn’t plan it that way; I didn’t even realize it until weeks later. One day a couple of weeks after I told him I didn’t want to be with him anymore I was sitting at my job at a call center, in my sparsely decorated cubicle, it was darned with two McDonald happy mean toys, two pictures of my cousins, and a puppy calendar that really was there more for function then ascetics since it spent more time off the wall and folded so that I could see only the calendar part of it.

I had spent the morning like I did most morning just ease dropping on the conversations around me trying to decide if I wanted to give any of the people I worked with the time of day much less the pleasure of my input on their conversations. My ears settled on a conversation to my right between a girl who sat across the aisle from me and the older woman who sat next to her. They were chatting about photographers. My neighbor across the aisle who had to be close to her late 20s if she wasn’t there already, dressed like she was somewhere between Punky Brewster and Tony Hawk, I had affectionately started calling her Sk8ts to my friends outside of work.

Sk8ts and the older woman's discussion had stemmed from the fact that the older woman's daughter was about to be married and was on the hunt for a quality picture taker, Sk8ts was gushing about the quality of the one she had at her wedding and all the features she sprang for when she got married. She obviously rated her photographer pretty high. This fact was made evident by the fact that she had 7 photos on the bottom shelf of her fabric-padded cubicle, along the top shelf sat an additional 4 photos of her and her "hubby." (I had worked there at this point just over four months and still didn’t know his name) Of all the 11 photos of her husband only one didn’t have her in it, this fact brought to light a whole other issue, but it wasn’t the one that was at the forefront of my mind at the moment.

In my opinion someone being so obsessed with their wedding doesn’t initially annoy or sit uneasily with me, and why should it, normally when you’re that smitten with the day it's because it was in the near past, and you’re still riding the adrenaline high that nerves and champagne creates. That being said every time sk8ts mentions her wedding I get the building urge to shoot her with a rubber band in the forehead, her wedding at this point was over 2 years ago and she had been with her "hubby" for nearly 10 years before they took the mostly metaphorical plunge.

Spending a large portion of my day next to sk8ts and listening to her go on over and over again about her wedding, the pictures, the cake, the dress, the invitations, the colors, shoes, and whatever people talk about for weddings (I have learned to zone her talking out pretty effectively with out her noticing) I have begun to seriously question whether or not I want to ever get married myself. The idea that, that single day will become the highlight of my life is beyond depressing. It makes me feel bad for all the other days of my life up until today that have meant so much to me.

But who am I kidding really? Of course I want to get married!!!  I want the white dress, I want the pretty hair, I want all my friends trying to make sure they look a little less ugly than me, but still hot enough to make out with the tallest/cutest groomsmen in the coat closet. I want it all! Most of all I want the coolest guy in the world to be waiting for me at the end of e aisle with the goofiest smile ever while he watches me walk towards him.   I'm soooo going to be as annoying as sk8ts! But my time working next to sk8ts taught me that I defiantly didn't want to be with my ex!  He is by far not the coolest guy in the world, don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy, and any girl who gets will...have him. But hearing how obsessed good ol' sk8ts was with her wedding day...no I wanted to be that obsessed with my husband. 

Ok not THAT obsessed, but I wanted the man I marry to be the most important and memorable part of the day, not my floral arrangement or whatever other minutia that is associated with weddings.