- 8 years ago
- Wedding: December 1969
Two days until my wedding and this week has been horrid. I admit, I’m posting a whining diatribe, but here are the lowlights of my week, in order of appearance:
1. Sunday night, FI’s sister decides that she doesn’t want to be in the wedding because she doesn’t look good in her dress. The bridesmaids each picked out their own dresses. She didn’t even tell me herself, her mother told me. She’s 38 years old.
2. Monday morning, I take an hour off of work to visit the reception site and have a final walkthrough with the banquet manager, who I’ve known for 20 years. We chose the venue in no small part because of our faith that he would make everything go smoothly. He tells us that he has received an invitation to compete in the Canadian National Handball Championships and will not be at the wedding. We live in New York. Canadian?
3. Monday evening, I get a call from the vet that my beloved dog has something wrong with his liver and we should run tests to make sure that he doesn’t have cancer. We run the tests on Wednesday and thank heavens, it’s not cancer. He will however have to be on really expensive medicine. A substantial chunk of our wedding budget is left at the vet’s office.
4. Tonight, I am told that a couple who are truly my most valued friends will not be able to travel from Washington DC to the wedding because the husband has had a project go haywire at work. The wife was a reader at the ceremony. We had printed our programs last night, not that it matters.
5. In the last two days, I have developed some sort of tendonitis in my foot that makes it exceedingly painful to stand for more than a few minutes.
I’m starting to have a defeatist attitude about the wedding. I’m excited to marry my fiance, but I find myself trying to anticipate what will go wrong next. At the end of the day, the only thing that I really care about is that my dog will be okay. If going through the rest of this crapola is payment for his relative health, then it’s worth it. I just never thought that on the eve of my wedding I would be looking at it as something to grit my teeth and get through.
I didn’t expect a lot from my wedding, as the whole process has had bizarre turns, but I’m feeling pretty down. It feels a bit better to vent.