I've been glancing over my calendars, yes, I said calendars, and guess what? You'll just never guess.
I'm getting married. In seventeen days.
The wedding madness has hit me upside the head, right and proper. Beaux bought my wedding rings (yes, I said rings, because I obviously need TWO rings) today, and I bought his. He tried on a wedding band and I just had to look away, it was so strange, so real. Truly, unless I really mess something up, we'll be married in seventeen days.
This morning I went by the health department - my second trip in a week, I'm feeling very close to all the workers right now - for the completely useless blood test required for a marriage license - and I had moment. This is serious, I thought, because they just took my blood!
This weekend, well, I was a bit of a Bridezilla. I think the trip to Pascagoula took a little more of out me, emotionally, than I wanted to admit. My Saturday was filled with people, people popping up like possums, including my mother and father, and I was not a happy bride. I was a bride who just needed a little time to herself, perhaps with a very large piece of chocolate, and a People magazine, but instead I had my two favorite men hawk-eyeing my lack of crafting skills. I will not repeat what I said to them, but it was so bad that they both left the house for a nice, refreshing walk. My mother was driving me insane, and I was being mean, because I was just so tired, and so not CARING ABOUT MY STUPID FLOWER CONES. I have further evidence of the divine love of my mother, because she looked at me very gently and said, "Let's do this another day." So we left and got Mexican, and when I was finally alone with Beaux, I just laid on the couch and cried at my horridness. How could I be so awful when everyone was trying so hard to help me? Why couldn't they just leave me alone and let me read?
But I'm better now, much better, and it's because I finally listened to some words of wisdom. Sunday morning I fell into my seat in the choir room, and a dear woman asked me how I was doing. I confessed to her that I was a mean person, a tired girl, and that was simply that. She looked at me, with her wise, motherly eye, and said, "I'm giving you permission to just take care of yourself right now. Do what you need to do at work, and what you need to do for your wedding. I give you permission to do that." And y'all, that was like words coming from the heavens. I let her words march straight into my brain and heart, and breathed down deep.
So that's what I'm doing. I'm taking care of myself, and the stupid flower cones, and I'm doing what needs to be done. This will include, eventually, reading a People magazine.