"Distrated"

Permit me to use this new word coined from Disappointed and Frustrated. Thank you.

And no, I don't feel this way right now at all. Far from it. On the contrary I am on a high. *wink*

Ok. I promised to do a post on my jewellery project, but I'll still get to do it. This story has been pushing itself to me since yesterday and share it I must.

There was a Retreat for some of my colleagues  in May, and I was to be a part of it. Notice for the Retreat was rather short and it actually conflicted with my brother-in-Law's (BIL) wedding. Well, the retreat was in Benin for Tuesday to Friday, and the wedding was in Kwara State for Friday and Saturday. This meant I had to pack a suitcase for the 2 events, right?

Well, my MIL had graciously sent me the fabrics (Aso-ebi) for the Traditional and Church wedding, and I still hadn't found a tailor to help me make something really nice. (I wanted to dress to impress my would be in-laws). AS time was running out, I ditched the idea of creating a buzz with my dresses and started looking for someone who could just make something presentable. It would have been bad if I had turned up for the wedding wearing something different considering that my MIL particularly sent me the clothes.

My pipu, I found a tail (No, its not a mistake, I just can't add the "or" to it). She really didn't mess up my clothes like that but she showed me real pepper. As I had gotten desperate, I suddenly remembered my hair stylist who said she had a tailor that made good dresses and her shop was in the Estate. I searched through my phone book and saw her contact. I called and we fixed an appointment for the next day. 

I took the fabrics to her and chose the style I wanted. Mind you, this was 3 days to my trip and she assured me it would be ready on Saturday. This was on Wednesday. I called her Saturday morning and she asked me to come in the evening.  I went to her shop in the evening and my cloth "neva ready". She told me her son was ill and all that and that she will spend the night to ensure it was ready by Sunday. Automatically, my plans for Sunday had been rescheduled. she however turned the lace material into a skirt and blouse, not escatly what I asked for but still ok. She however decided to show my boobs to the whole world. The front was so low, I wondered if it was my measurement she used. 

First thing Sunday morning, I called her and she said there was no light, I knew I was in trouble. When I got to her shop, she had just finished cutting it up. I sat with her as she was sewing. Meanwhile, I had a marriage  counselling class to attend by 1pm at Igando, and I was at Ikoyi. By 11 am, my husband called to find out where I was and what my plans were. I told him I'd be leaving in 30 mins time. I tried the dress on and saw that it was wayyyyyy toooo short. and tight. It just made me look very very cheap. I asked her if it was my measurement she used and this "tail"  (remember, no "or") told me the fabric wasn't enough so she just cut it like that. Ahhhh! My boo called again and told me to let him know when I was leaving her shop.

She was still working on it by 12:45 when I snatched my dress and left the shop. As soon as I stepped out of the shop, I started crying. I was sooooooooooooooooooooooo frustrated. I didn't like the clothes, they were just to tight on me. They were not what I wanted and I had wasted my time. And she even charged me for "express" on top of everything. Arghhh!!!

My concern at that point was to get to Igando. How was I to get to Igando from Ikoyi, when my father doesn't own Lagos roads? I just kept walking and crying.  My husband called me to find out where I was, and I told him I will be quite late but he should please explain to the pastor. At first they were silent tears, just my heart was crying. Then my eyes decided to show solidarity and started shedding tears. By the time the bike dropped me at Obalende, I was heaving. My boo asked me where I was and I told him I was at obalende, that he should please give me some time to met him. When I got to the Taxi park at Obalende, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't talk, I was just sobbing. The taxi men were afraid (probably thinking I had just heard bad news). On a normal day, I am what you call an "alaroro" I don't dash people money like that ooo. But I just didn't have it in me to price. When the can guy said N5,000, I managed to say i'll pay you N4,000. On a normal day, i'll had gone down to N3,000. He just said I should enter and started shouting to another cab guy that had blocked him that it was an emergency  It must have been a sight indeed, someone as big as me crying like a baby that they had taken a toy from. I didn't care who saw me. I was just inconsolable. 

As we made to leave the park, my boo called again and I told him I just got a taxi and was leaving Obalende. He said I shouldn't go with the Taxi as he was in front of my house. The tears went up another notch. I got down, thanked the cab guy and started making my way back towards my estate. By this time, people were staring openly at me, and I ws doing all the crying I had never done in my life. The funny thing is I didn't for once think about what I was doing. I was just so frustrated. I was late (AGAIN), had wasted my boo's time, and I was probably going to miss counselling (Again) and I hated the outcome of the clothes.

I met my boo halfway and when I saw the concern in his eyes, the tears flowed fast. He was so scared, he thought I had lost a family member (God forbid). He stopped in the middle of the road and refused to move until I told him no one died. The he asked me what happened to make me cry like that. I honestly had no answer for him and I finally said the "tailor spoilt my dress". He had this incredulous look on his face, like "is that why you are crying"? 

Anyway, he calmed me down (like only him can *wink*), we called the pastor to cancel the class (with apologies) and we just hung out. Then he calmly asked me if I realized the picture I painted while crying like a child and if I realized I was going to be the mother of  his children. It was at that point I felt ashamed.

When I shared the story with my mum later that night, she was actually rolling on the floor and had tears rolling down her eyes. SHe found it so funny, meanwhile, as I was narrating it to her, I started crying again. It really pained me shaaa.

Anyway, I passed by Obalende yesterday and I remembered this story and thought to share.