Do you have any idea how much I have to do in the next 23 days? What was I thinking leaving for nearly two months for the campaign to return only 35 days before my wedding? Why in the name of Jennifer Love Hewitt didn’t any of you step in and say, “Um, hey, Bridal Bird, I was thinking about it and it turns out…you’re an idiot.” Now it’s midnight and I should be stuffing welcome bags, prepping itineraries, getting my shoes dyed, scheduling a facial and a massage, figuring out what in the heck kind of earrings I’m going to wear, and brushing up on my waltz (why did we pick a waltz for our first dance?!), etc., etc. All this to do here in D.C., yet on Friday I’ve got to go up to New York for a dress fitting. And instead of tackling some of the list now, I’m sitting here watching the Sox-Angels game and stalling on going back through the kitchen because there’s a mouse in there. No foolies. Saw him earlier tonight. The wheels have come off the trolley at wedding central.
Never mind, I am going in the kitchen, to get a beer. I need a beer. Maybe the mouse will accept a beer in exchange for tying the ribbons on the giftbags.