I am very much looking forward to the day I get to marry my best friend this September. However, the planning bit of that big day, has passed the blissful state and entered the 7th circle of panic in my world. I think my better half is none the wiser, which is fine. I can't understand his world of theory, electrons, and computer programming, so why should he care about flowers and invitations right? Well this sentimental sap of a writer does. True, it is all about prioritizing everything and truly the invitations rank pretty low, but still, the amount of time and effort that goes into this should warrant me at least part-time compensation. Don't get me wrong, it is fun in some respects, but bearing it all is a bit overwhelming at times.
Perhaps it is a right of passage, but I think I have entered the "we should have eloped phase," which is followed closely by the "courthouse is sounding good right about now" chapter.