I have decided to prioritise.Life before work, or more specifically; inner pleasure before external satisfaction.
To make up for lost time I have already picked out the shiny rock that will adorn my finger for when the yet to be named he and I slide on down the isle. When I say rock I really mean rocks, as it’s a beautiful 1930’s marcasite number with over forty points of affordable bling. The plan is to drop to one knee by the third date and ask / beg if this special he would ‘engage’ me. With any luck he will say yes, and by the end of the night we will be engaged as well!
The only problem I have with the whole engagement thing is being a fiancée. I hate the word with a Jerry Springer like passion and will have to come up with an alternative for the ‘look, drool, but don’t touch’ state. So far the possibilities are; ‘Beyoncé to be’ – which might be a problem if this magical he is expecting a transformation of black bootylicious proportions, then there's ‘three colours off-white’ for my pasty complexion, and ‘oops, missed me by that much.’
Now all I have to do is find the perfect dress, caterer, and a little something called a groom.
Ms seeking-Mr-Fabulous M.
