Until about a week ago I was floating across the wedding experience. Anger and stress came in waves, reactive, responding to particular aggravations.
My gut was relaxed and open, I woke with a sense of peace each morning. Beloved entered a state of stress a while back, so I've been a foil to that, the trainer in the corner with a hot towel and massage on tap.
Then I felt the lock clamp in my gut. It's on, and it won't release until well into the evening of the 12th of November. About 5 vintage chandons if you want a precise measurement of time. I wake and my abs are tense. I feel nausea come on with no good reason. I try to distract myself writing songs or thinking up ideas for that novel but the logic-panic axis of my brain overrides more subtle creative impulses like an iron bar across the throat of a wren.
No, it's not rational.
Most things are organised, but still... got to burn a good hour and a half worth of mix CD. Don't even know how you go about doing that, let alone on what equipment. Got to check over and finalise vows. Got to pick a couple of nice poems.
Does anyone have suggestions for a wedding-appropriate, quality love poem?
Sunday selections without the rules. - As fond as I am of having a lap pool, I could make do with this lovely spa with a view. As you see it was the strawberries and chocolate that caught my ...
20 hours ago