I have to tread my big butt to BF today to have a first fitting of my dress.
Apparently the bride reminded me to not be "pasaway" as she alloted this day to have an exclusive fitting for Hassle-hoff people like me (I refuse to think I'm the only one).
Why do I feel scared anyways? I'll tell you why. Because every inch of that zipper is like a slow upward climb to confirming my added fatness. If the zipper is lucky enough to reach the end point, I'm sure I would be suffocating like a human pastel colored suman. My skin, out of stress and undesired material, could itch like hell itself. Therefore forcing the bride to just easily replace me as her Maid of Honor. Oh no, that means I would have to find my own dress within a month's time. And that is 10 times worse! No way!
That's why I have to chill. Accept my fears and suck it in!
Face it like how a woman should. Then after that I'm going to get a latte for comfort, but I'll make sure it's non-fat.