I keep having nightmares about the big day.
Last night’s was especially stressful. While Liam lay next to me, blissfully dreaming about video games and Oasis, I experienced this:
“Hey, Amy. Are you all ready for tomorrow?” says our Shelburne Museum contact, Bruce.
“Yeah, your wedding is tomorrow!”
“But it’s only April. I thought I still had months to plan!”
“It’s not April. It’s August 3rd.”
“This can’t be happening!!!!”
And then I proceeded to lose my shit.
“I haven’t sent out formal invitations! HOW are people going to know about the wedding and get here by tomorrow!?”
Then my lovely Mom appears. “Don’t worry, honey. Your true friends and family will be there.” (Which is funny, cause my mom would probably say something nice and encouraging like this during a crisis.)
“But the girls don’t have bridesmaid dresses yet! They’re still on order!”
“I’m sure they all have a dress they could wear. It’s no big deal.”
“WHAAAAT?? How can you think it’s no big deal?”
We get in the car and drive to the venue to go over “last minute details.” Shelburne Museum had turned into a ski resort and it’s snowing (in August).
We meet with Bruce. “So, this is where the ceremony will be,” he says, pointing to a ski lodge with blizzard-like conditions.
I again protested and assured him I would never choose to get married in front of a ski lodge.
“Sorry,” he says. “It’s the only area available tomorrow. And that’s the area you specified in your paper work.”
I did have a dress. For some ungodly reason, the gown was the only detail I had remembered to take care of. And I’m pretty sure it was the Bjork Swan dress.
Everything else was wrong. We had no flowers, no music, no photographer. It was the worst, most unorganized fiasco of all time.
Luckily, I woke up before the ceremony began.