See that little count down widget right over there? --------> Hmm? Do ya? Right now as I’m typing this, it’s showing that there’s only nine hours to go until Scope and I are married. NINE. HOURS. And that’s crazy, people. Crazy like spaghetti and light bulbs.
Shouldn’t I be nervous or something? ‘Cuz I’m not. No, really. Shut up. I slept just fine last night, woke up feeling completely calm and nonfreakoutish, and now I’m sitting here eating a 3 Musketeers and blogging quietly so I don’t accidently wake my daughter up before I hit my treadmill with a three mile walk while I watch Quantum Leap, just like I do every morning…. the only difference is that I keep wondering why I’m not nervous. Where are those annoying butterflies which always haunt my stomach in situations like this?! Hmm? What, are they on freaking strike? Are they sleeping in? Maybe they’re just lying in wait outside my front door, giggling menacingly amongst themselves and plotting to ambush me later as I load up my car with all the glass bowls, glass flutes, wedding clothes, seating charts, table numbers, and yada yada yada that I’ll be needing in nine hours?
That settles it. I’m leaving out the backdoor, dammit! So there!
*sticking out tongue at butterflies while I notice that now there's only EIGHT hours to go*
(Nope. Still not nervous. Bizarre. Who am I and what have I done with myself????)