I'm so annoyed with myself because I can't seem to stay on an even emotional keel. One minute I'm calm and happy, and the next I'm so irritated I could bash a baguette (see "Can't Sleep"). I'm starting to wish for the wedding that the massage therapist from Watercourse Way had: "My dad planned the whole thing. I didn't even see my dress until the day of the wedding."

"How did you know it would fit?" I asked, thinking of the multiple fittings it took me, and knowing that I had it easy. "He bought it in three sizes," she replied. Hard to imagine. Of course, her wedding was about half as large as ours is going to be, and she had it at her house.

It's not that I wish my dad would plan my wedding for me (much as I love my father, I actually find that idea a bit creepy); it's that I want some magical person to flutter down from the sky and handle the last-minute details. Someone like... a wedding planner. Actually, I find that idea even creepier than my dad buying my dress, so maybe I'll just have to get used to the emotional overload.

I think most of the frustration comes from wanting contradictory things, like more time to get everything worked out, and yet also for the wedding day to hurry up and get here. When I'm awake, I want to be sleeping. When I should be sleeping, I'm wide awake wishing I could be making calls and confirming arrangements. What I want most of all just now—even though there are season premieres to be watched and thank-you notes to be written and photos to be framed for gifts—is to get in bed and read a book. I think I'll do that.

Posted by Lori at September 29, 2002 09:33 PM