Monday Mood

I've been pondering, of late. I feel a bit blah; a Premium-cracker blandish, flat 7-Uppish kind of stale bread blah. It's like a million colors of inspiration have swirled around in my head, poured out through my thoughts, and bled into the empty air.

Then I realized: the wedding is over. I don't have a project anymore.

The fluster and fuss and dreaming and scheming and budget-keeping is no more. I miss it.

I've read of this, before, in one of those bazillion emails The Knot or The Nest have sent me. They call it the post-wedding blues. Women actually MISS wedding planning. I would never have believed it three months ago when I was afraid I'd lose all my hair before I had a chance to walk down the aisle. All I longed for (other than finally being the Mrs. to my beloved Mr. B) was to have a NORMAL existence again. One in which the words "escort card" or "tulle" did not exist. Especially since I had worked so hard to AVOID using tulle in the first place.

I don't miss the stress. Heavens, no; I could never miss that. I was not what you'd call the most pulled-together bride. Planning, apparently ... NOT my forte, especially when other people are involved (or at least not for this Lone Ranger kind of schoolgirl to whom the words "group project" brought fear and trembling and much gnashing of teeth.)

Now, being creative for a purpose? That, my friends, I miss with all my heart. I miss creating an environment, a dream world, a tangible emotion. I even miss being "the bride," almost as much as I'm relieved I'm not one anymore! Not so much because I want the attention, but more because I had an identity that was recognized by many. For once in my life, I had been "somebody."

It's like having been the birthday girl for seven months straight and then realizing the birthday is over and you're just another year older. You're not particularly special. You're just another young (albeit married) woman again. Well, la-dee-dah.

I feel like I need to slip into another identity. To drive another dream-project into reality.

Or do I?

Could it be this longing is just ... my soul ... waiting to seek God with the same passion I sought after reception ideas and flowers in my budget?

Hmmm.