breathe. relax. breathe.
[This is a post about a wedding-related incident, but I felt the need to post it here instead of the wedding blog. So sue me.]
I met up with the string quartet lady today to go over some details and she wanted to check out the hotel facilities for various things. One of the things she needed to check was to time my entrance from the doors where I enter to the front of the terrace where the registrar (and my husband to be, if he doesn't change his mind) will be. We're getting married in the terrace, which is a restaurant open to the public during lunch and dinner hours. It was 1pm, and I had to casually stroll through a terrace full of diners - not once, but twice. Apparently I didn't do the rehearsal walk quite right and the quartet lady asked me to do it again. As the restaurant staff looked at me with great amusement, I said "I am rehearsing for my wedding. I'm not going insane. Honest." and kept my gaze fixed on the floor as I walked by the tables verrrryy sloowwwwwly, pausing twice (as per the quartet lady's request). I felt like such an enormous dork. A dorky pregnant stressed out waddly dork.
I am now at the point where I don't want to meet with anyone, make appointments, make phone calls, or make any more decisions related to this wedding. I really don't give a flying spork how many roses I need for each centrepiece, where the photographer is going to take our pictures between the ceremony and lunch, or whether or not we can figure out a song for our first dance. There are still so many little stupid details left to sort out, and no matter how simple you think you're keeping things, there is always something left to do. All I really want to do is marry my lovely, very patient and understanding fiance, have a great lunch, and disco the night away with my family and friends. Pointe finale.
I'm sure I'll look back on all of this one day and laugh. (Hysterically, from a nicely padded room.) In the meantime, I will be hiding under my desk eating chocolate peanut butter squares.