Ugh

My hair is a fucking state. I am short and fat and today of course my skin looks awful. To top it all off, he's suggested we meet in the nice part of town which is now making me panic because the only places I can think of where you can go and eat there are kind of, well, nice, and because on careful perusal of things like his MySpace and such he appears to, well, to be quite fond of wearing a suit. Um...fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck. Let's just bring everyone up to speed here. I am a short, fat, scruffily dressed scene kid with tattoos and badly cut hair and I have a chronic condition that affects both my legs that means I have to wear compression things on them all the time so I can't DO nice shoes and a little frock. I don't OWN anything like that. I basically wear Dr Martin boots, all the time, to make sure my ankles are okay. With ankle length skirts. He was going to get my nicest clothes but they're smart(ish) casual at the very best and stood next to a man in a suit I'm going to look a complete idiot. The worst part is he's left his mobile at work and all our communication has been via email and I can't even get hold of him now to say um hi can we not...do this...thanks. I'm so stressed about it I'm nearly in fucking tears. I hate, hate, hate having anxiety about not being dressed right. It's why I barely ever go anywhere unless it's to some scummy gig or to the cinema. I don't have the clothes. I never look dressed up or pretty. I'd cancel but I can't get hold of him. Jesus I have so many other things to fucking compensate for that this really wasn't what I was hoping to have to worry my way through tonight.