I’m getting closer and closer to panic.
It’s doing wonders for my wedding-related productivity: I have successfully talked both my Mom and my Mother-in-law-to-be into cutting people off the guest list (270-ish, down from 325–hooray!); I have ordered the invitations and they should be here on Tuesday (thank gods for the internet and its bounty); I have scheduled a second appointment with my hair stylist for another go at the… um, hair style; I have begun an exercise regimen that is completely kicking my ass.
I joined the local YMCA (even though I am neither a Young Man nor a Christian) and have this crazy dream that if I go 3 times a week I’ll be svelte and toned and able to dance all night at my wedding. Right now (day 4) I would feel lucky if I can get through the day without running into a wall due to complete loss of coordination. (Even my typing sucks worse than usual… you should see the crap I’m coming up with.) I’m going with a friend of mine (I’ll call her Miss Fitness) who used to be a dancer (I used to be a rugby player. A small one, but a rugger nonetheless). She’s in much better shape than I am (did I say “ex-dancer” yet?) which could suck in the confidence-boosting department, but doesn’t because she’s super nice and supportive and helpful. I do feel awesome when we lift weights though, because I have bigger muscles than she does and at least I have that over her, dammit.
With any luck I’ll have non-flabby arms and back by the time the wedding rolls around. In seventy-eight days.
What I have also been doing (and this is related to panic too, because panic means “active, but senseless behavior”) is watching a lot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs and reading random books and not working on the wedding knitting. Except on Monday, when I did knit 4 stitches on the Orange Black Hole of Knitting while at the unofficial Stitch-n-Bitch at the bar with Heather and Anna and Sandi. Yes. We met at a bar to stitch. No, no one got any stitching done except Anna and that’s only because she was in denial of all the beer. Sandi tried to stitch but kept getting her yarn caught in all the beer. I kept getting my mouth caught in all the beer, and Heather learned that she needs to learn to love beer, for it is happy and cheap. And did I have my camera? Of course not. I left it at home that night. So until I can scan Sandi’s regular-ole-pictures, you won’t see all the crazy fun we had.
(and oh my gosh, don’t you just love Wikipedia? Because seriously, I went from the entry on Buffy the Vampire Slayer to the entry on Received Pronounciation and I learned so much! Sweet! Knowledge is just floating around out there, waiting for us to grab it and absorb it into our minds! …. okay, that got a little weird.)
So, yes. Seventy-eight days. That’s so much time. I have acres of time. Huge tracts of time. I can accomplish so much in the space of all this time!