Current mood:

stressed

Suddenly, at 1 am on a Thursday morning, I understand how bridezillas are born.

I AM FREAKING OUT. FREAKING. OUT.

As I was getting ready to snuggle down into bed for a good night's sleep, I thought to check my Dashboard Widget to see how many days there were until the wedding.

71. 71 days until the wedding. That means that as of Friday, we are 10 weeks out.

I ONLY HAVE 10 WEEKS LEFT.

What happened?! The wedding used to be 9 months away and people were telling me I was being crazy for doing things so far in advance and now I only have 10 weeks. I kept telling myself it was 2 months, but then 2 months became 70 days which is only 10 weeks.

And I still have to get my gown to fit and book the florist and finish paying for everything and write 8 million checks and talk to the caterer about the bar and get my dad to go get fitted for his freakin' tux because the one that he wore in 1997 is just NOT going to fit him and I have to nudge him on the balance left for the wedding and I have to figure out a day where Vince and I can go apply for the marriage license and figure out getting my name changed and decide whether or not we're doing out-of-towner bags and lick 31 envelopes and order the candles for the ceremony and trek out to Ikea to find frames for the table numbers and I have to DESIGN the table numbers in the first place and I have to lose 15 lbs and buy some panties and book the rehearsal dinner AND the farewell breakfast and get the playlist for the DJ and the do-not-play list for the DJ and get attendant gifts and decide what to do with my hair and then order some kind of shiny thing to put in my hair because at this rate I do not have time to get a custom-made birdcage as planned and I need to e-mail the ceremony back to the officiant aaaaaaaaaand ::deep breath:: I have to book the make-up artist and find a hair dresser and decide whether or not I want menu cards and then design them if I do and I have to make ceremony programs and get the ribbon down to the baker for the favors and THEN I have to hope that all the guests take pity on me and use the RSVP card so that I don't have to track down everyone to figure out whether or not they are actually coming so that I can give a final count to the hotel and the caterer and I have to redesign the card cage because the ribbons keep coming off and I don't think the shoes I have are going to work after all so maybe I will go find some cute white flip flops and... and...

And school starts on Monday.

But here is what I tell myself:
A. This is what I wanted. I'm complaining, but secretly I love it.
B. Right this instant there's a guy sleeping downstairs in the bedroom. He has a cold right now and is hopped up on Nyquil, so thankfully all of my stressed out tossing and turning didn't wake him up. But what I keep telling myself is that when alllllllll that stuff is said and done, I will: 1) have had a great party 2) be bound on my HONEYMOON which involves long hours at the spa and lots of good food and 3) In 10 weeks I will be married to the best person I know.

So it's all going to be okay.

::sigh:: Okay. I can go to sleep now.