“I’m finalizing everything this week so I can spend the weekend panicking uninterrupted.”
Good grief, I’m getting married in nine days…and worst of all, mostly everything is done! I get to make a million and one confirmation phone calls this week, and then sit around twiddling my thumbs and waiting for everything to come crashing spectacularly down.
Any second now J. is going to awaken to his danger and take off running. My immediate and extended family will decide not to show up…or they will, and get into a huge fight culminating in a salad slinging war throughout the luncheon site. The florist will die of swine flu and they’ll send her final creations to her funeral in tribute instead of the reception. My family’s luggage will tumble out of the plane halfway between London and Chicago. Mika (my loveably but hyperactive dog) will sneak her way into a suitcase and reduce my gown to shreds in her excitement. There will be an awful gas leak at the salon which, thanks to the oceans of hair spray that are going into my, Mama, Snickers, Venice, Marie, and Peregrine’s hair, will result in a doubly horrific explosion when a stylist goes outside for a ciggy break. One of J.’s exes will kidnap me to prevent the nuptials (seriously, could happen. Our department is running security on an wedding that’s happening on campus for this very reason). I’ll stumble groggily to the car way too early in the morning to go get my hair done and halfway to the city realize I’ve forgotten everything. The wedding license will spontaneously combust. Despite all my careful working out and eating, I’ll wake up the day of so plumped up with stress that my dress will pop open at the seams when we try to force me into it. I’ll trip going down the stairs at my flat and end up in a bodycast and with a mouthful of broken teeth (this one is actually most likely…).
Though ludicrous, and yes I do realize they are, these are real fears. But I’m not alone. Yesterday both Darling and Mama gave me slightly more realistic-but no less-terrifying possibilities to consider: my family’s luggage could not arrive (never mind being left at Heathrow!), and everyone could come down with food poisoning! J.’s family, on his mother’s orders, will probably be eschewing all restaurants ‘twixt now and then, and I’ll be popping vitamin C likes it’s candy to ward off the cold several helpful and loving friends insist is coming (you jerks!).