We just officially passed the 60-day mark out from the wedding, and it’s suddenly become VERY obvious that we’re in full-on planning mode. We’ve got multiple meetings each week, leading me to become falsely secure in the fact that next month will actually be more calm.
I am delusional. Allow me to be.
Hammering out some final details has kept me occupied during the time that I’d normally be posting, and when it’s time to relax I can’t bring myself to come to the computer and visit your similing faces. I hope that you’ll forgive me, albeit temporarily.
I’m a little hesitant to do the usual “These are the events running up to my wedding and these are the crafts that I’m making and these are my burns from the hot glue gun hahaha” posts that typical bridal bloggers start to turn to around this time. For starters, some of you will be all “yawn, bored.” I also have some people who read who are COMING to the wedding (YAY! I’m pointing to YOU, The Yezel and Fairy Bookmother!), and I don’t necessarily want to give away all my trickiness ahead of time.
There’s also been a crazy amount of stress lately- Dad’s currently laid off due to a corporate lockout (re: GREED) at his plant, and Mia’s having surgery tomorrow for an injury to her leg. I’m worrying about them and feeling hugely guilty that we have a wedding coming up, even though they’ve assured me that it’s a bright spot in the next months. Army Boy and I have both had huge professional disappointments in the last week, which I won’t post about because I don’t trust that there’s no chance of getting Dooce’d. Let it suffice to say that changes are coming.
I’m totally ok with admitting that as the wedding-related stress is rising, on top of the other drama and working, my fuse is getting shorter. I acknowledge that. It’s a common phenomenon. And rather than blowing something that’s really not a big deal totally out of proportion, I want to avoid posting anything on here that I’m going to regret in the long run.
All that was basically to say that I’m going to TRY to post as things get closer to the wire. But if I don’t? Assume that a: it’s a secret, b: someone pissed me off that I don’t want to write about (aka future family perhaps??), or c: I am running around like a glitter-covered chicken with it’s head cut off.
(Just kidding. There’s no glitter involved.)