I’ve got 120 days to pull this thing together and I don’t know if I can do it. I mean, I can, but maybe not in the way in which I imagined. Maybe the huge, Chinese lanterns and the old-fashioned hanging lights aren’t going to work out. Maybe the invitations are going to have to be slightly different. And maybe my dress won’t be quite as fashion-forward and amazing as I had pictured it. Can you tell I’m having a bad day over here?
I awoke this morning at about 6 o’clock in the morning with a never-ending To Do list running through my head. Find this, call them, go there, figure out that. Now I see why Wedding Planners are in such high demand. This is not a job for the faint of heart. To make matters worse, everyone keeps telling me to enjoy the process. I don’t know what to say. Am I excited about getting leg-shackled? Yes. Do I like the idea of having a party where our nearest and dearest are creating memories and hopefully having the time of their lives? Absolutely. Is it stress-free trying to plan something like this when you’ve never done anything like it before in your entire life and you have champagne tastes on a shoestring budget? No. No. No.
Everything I find is over budget. The photographer I love is $6000. The dress I love is $4000. The decorations I love are $10,000. The invitations I love are $2,500. And this is all for a wedding with merely a few guests; our family and a couple of our oldest friends. I just don’t understand how I ended up liking such nice things. Give me a taste test of Wine A, which costs $5 and Wine B, which costs $500 and even if you put Wine B in a bottle marked ‘Wild Turkey’ with some dirt smeared on it like you found the bottle in the gutter or something, I’ll somehow pick Wine B as the one I want.
So pity party over, it’s 7 o’clock and I’ve got a 4 page list of duties to tackle. Duty #1: Find invitations that look like the invitations I like, are on recycled paper, have zero tacky motifs printed all over them, and don’t sell for $40 an invite. Oh who am I kidding? I’m totally going to cave and buy the expensive invitations. That or give myself a heart attack trying to find something in my budget. On the bright side, this stress is just melting away the pounds. I ate an entire frozen pizza last night for dinner and it doesn’t even matter. I’m almost down to the weight I was when I first lured in my husband to be. Yay, skinny me!