Today’s the day.
By which I mean the love of my life and I are going to get dressed, head downtown, and circle the block to look for parking, at which point I will proceed to the fifth floor of the Rothman Institute and let a complete stranger stab a needle into my back.
Sounds like fun, right?
I’ve already loaded up on Ben and Jerry’s for the recovery.
And PIC is going to work from home today so that he can do important things like deliver said Ben and Jerry’s to by bedside and (let’s be real) procure additional frozen delicacies from the convenience store around the corner.
Am I nervous?
But this entire ordeal has come with one unexpected benefit: I’ve become somewhat of a zen bride.
I mean sure, there are still the moments of panic, like yesterday, when I realized I’d never arranged to get my dress altered and that no one– I repeat NO ONE!– will take on a new client during “peak” wedding season. Or the day before that when I spent like 4 hours crafting our custom hashtag signs only to realize the you can’t put an ampersand in a hashtag or it will invalidate the damn thing…
But these issues are resolving themselves, slowly but surely. And in their wake is this man, this amazing man, who has carried me, both literally and figuratively, over the past few months. A few nights ago I was in so much pain that I got out of bed at 1am to lay on the floor and he got right out of bed to lay there with me. Just thinking about it makes me tear up and wonder how did I get so damn lucky?
(I’m going to blame to abysmal cliches here on the Oxycodone and you are going to be nice and accept this for today.)