It's the last summer of my 20's so I made a list. This is number 9. And today, as I watched the man at the post office, slam stamps haphazardly onto my carefully and beautifully addressed wedding invitations, a part of me died inside. And in the place of my former self, a bride monster started to emerge.
I mean, how hard is it to follow right angles?
That's what I'm screaming inside my head, willing myself to let it go, let it go. It's just stamps on an envelope.
Have you ever had a friend who was getting married and she said to you, in a beautiful moment of justification "But that's the one thing I decided to invest in."
It could be the food or the flowers. For me? I picked the invitations. And I don't want to get into it here, but I'll cut to the chase and say it was a long process that didn't go as I planned.
So for that reason I think, the icing on the cake was the man behind the counter at Canada Post today. He was a bit gruff from the get go, but when he saw me trying to stick stamps onto 66 envelopes, he offered to help. And I'm not one to turn down an extended hand, but when I saw him slapping the stamps on, this way and that, I developed a bit of a nervous tick... but I didn't want to be rude so I said nothing. It really did look strange though - why wouldn't he just put the stamp in the corner? Why would he put it, in diamond formation, in the middle of the envelope?
When they were so nicely addressed? So neatly sealed?
I needed a reality check.
When you're planning a wedding, you should probably have some nice, non-interfereing well meaning stranger offer to help you every day. So you realize that being in control of every element isn't only unnecessary, it's actually a delusion that's bound to leave you disappointed by something.
Expectations are good. And high expectations usually mean you've got determination and good taste. But at a certain point, they can cloud the super plain-in-your-face-point about getting married.
Planning a wedding means I've been eating my fair share of humble pie, daily.