Monday, September 13, 2004



Five days.

I am freaking, as much as I try not to. Freaking.

This morning I got the terrible news about Lori’s mom. I feel like an asshole for even thinking about how it’s going to affect me. When I think of how it must be affecting her, I feel even worse, like I somehow planned the wedding to happen at the same time!

My back feels as if my shoulder blades are being held together by steel cable, and someone keeps tightening it.

I have been soooo good about washing my face and putting the medicine on, yet it still decided to explode this weekend. It was getting better, and then poof, it goes nasty again. The more I think about it, the more it stresses me out and of course, stress is one of the things that makes it worse.

My job interview is tomorrow. I seriously have no business trying to represent myself as a competent human right now. Why did I schedule it for this week?!? Unbelievable dumbass.

ManThing and I have tried to make things as easy as possible, but I guess every wedding is the same when you get to the last week. Nit-pickery galore. You start to realize all the things you haven’t thought about. The babysitter, or babysitters, because I don’t know how many kids are going to be at this thing? How’s my dress getting to the club? Where the hell are we having the rehearsal dinner? Central Market better have goddam red Gerber daisies on Saturday.

All these stupid “what to do the week of the wedding” articles say things like “get enough sleep,” “get some exercise,” “try to relax,” “don’t have too much caffeine”- are they fucking kidding? I guess those suggestions are directed at trust-fund-having, non-working, gym-bunny, SUV-driving pieces of fluff who aren’t paying for anything themselves and weren’t stupid enough to start a new job too close to the wedding so they hadn’t accrued any time off yet!

Son of a! Mother! Piece of! ACK! ACK! ACK! ACK! ACK!

*deep breath*


This bitch better not ruin my honeymoon, because I'm already pretty pissed with Mother Nature as is.

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