Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours

(Note: I have tried really hard not to blog too much about my upcoming wedding, but sadly, said wedding has turned my brain to mush and all it’s all I can think about at the moment. So be prepared for some really dull posts in the days to come.)

Today, I picked up the marriage license. It’s all very official looking (more so than I would have expected from DC, but this is the new DC*). And now I guess there is no turning back. Actually, the no turning back point would really be when my mother handed over a very large check to the hotel. After that point, it just became cheaper to go through with it and get a divorce later.

Please pardon my cynicism. It’s not that I don’t want to marry Lord Kissington—I do and that’s why I’ll be saying “I do.”. It’s just that all the many steps of this process have caused me great anxiety. The 18 bazillion choices I have had to make as to dress, shoes, tiara (I have to admit that I enjoyed that one), flowers, entrees, hors d’oeuvres, table placement, chair covers, bouquets, invitations, etc. have been difficult for me since I’m, well, rather indecisive. Even today, when I had to meet with the hotel and the florist, I spent most of the meetings shrugging my shoulders and saying “whatever you think is best.” When you add in such things as syph tests and dealing with the DC government, I just get a little anxious.

This anxiety is contributing to my recurring insomnia, which gives me further anxiety because I am worried that I will look tired and haggard at my wedding. It’s a vicious cycle.

*I remember the old DC, where my official ID looked like something I made in my friend’s parents’ garage. My name was backwards, the ID went through the lamination machine crooked, and the laminating job looked, mmh, unofficial at best. Now, I have a brand spanking new ID that actually looks like it comes from a real state. Oh, how times have changed.