Tuesday was Free Pastry at Starbucks. I contemplated and deliberated over how much I wanted to “pay” for a free Bucks pastry. “Think of your health”, I told myself. “Remember, you don’t want to be a fat *fill in the blank* at any of the upcoming weddings”, I chided. And then, I had an epiphany. It was as clear as a picture, really… a picture of my veil.
In the past few years, it has come to my attention that perhaps being a wedding photographer may not be the best thing for the self-esteem of a perpetually single 30 year old. Actually, in light of a series of recent events, this profession is most certainly detrimental to this 30 year-olds’ self-esteem.
This one had my colors… This one used my location… That one took my engagement ring, my flowers, and my wedding band. She took my idea for favors… She stole my theme song… She went and got my dress.
That one’s using my menu… This one’s going on my honeymoon… This one looks amazing posing just as I imagined… That one wore my veil… beautifully down the aisle… dragging with it all hope I had left.
Seriously, at this point, since I’ve already witnessed, changed, edited, scratched, reworked, and then photographed my dream wedding in a myriad of ways, I might as well order a cup of Starbucks’ 8000 Cal whip cream, demand my free pastry, get fat and die.