Frenetic train of thought

Everyone told me that the week before the wedding would be insane and I didn’t believe them. How very wrong I was. We have a list of things to do on our coffee table and it just keeps growing, no matter how many things I cross off. I’ve been waking up at 3am worrying about parking of all things—what if people park in the wrong part of the garage and get locked in once it closes at 10pm??? How will the hotel let guests know that they can self-park in PART of this garage but not ALL of it (the other part belongs to the mall next door and that’s the part that closes). Then all I can think of is Mr. Henslowe from Shakespeare in Love saying, “It’ll all work out.” And I ask how and he says, “It’s a mystery!” It’s a sad state of affairs.

UPDATE--the garage closes at 1am on Saturdays. Hooray!

I’ve been pretty calm for the past 7 months, mostly because I’ve adopted an “I’ll avoid this so it doesn’t stress me out” approach but this week I’ve turned into the kind of wide-eyed, anxious, control freaky woman that cable TV makes shows about and it’s a little weird. I’ve watched my friends turn into this woman during the week before their weddings and it’s like aliens came down to earth and took over my friends’ bodies and now they’ve got me, too. The programs, they must be done exactly right. The papers have to coordinate. And I really, really need to just chill out but at this point I’m running on pure adrenaline and it feels like a freight train that can’t be stopped. A good train but an unstoppable one with lots of details that have to be taken care of or the whole thing could derail like there had just been a huge ice storm or something.

Yesterday I was standing in the changing room at Target (the new Proenza Schouler line is CUTE) and I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror sans clothes and literally burst into tears. Somehow other brides stress themselves down two sizes but me, I go on the stupid pill one month before my wedding and miraculously gain 10 pounds. I can see the 10 pounds—it’s there in the jiggly parts that didn’t used to be jiggly and even though I bought a new bikini for the honeymoon right now I am feeling that there is no way I will wear anything but a giant sack to the beach. Who sells Hawaiian beach sacks because I want several.