Because I am apparently the genius of creating unnecessary stress and heartache for myself, I planned very early on in this wedding process that I would do all my own decorations, menu cards, place cards, candles, etc. for the reception. Sans (that's French for "without," Robert) florist. The original plan was not, of course, supposed to be stressful in any way, and was supposed to save me thousands of dollars. Which could only be considered smart, frugal, and very practical, right? I'm doing these big branches in tall glass cylinders. With little white flowers glued randomly all over them. Whatever it sounds like, or whatever image that may conjure up in your mind: I promise, it is going to be SO pretty. For real.
I was supposed to have those hundreds of branches yesterday, so I could start hot gluing like my life depends on it.
Well, Matt, or whatever his name is, from the warehouse called and said they won't be able to get them from Pennsylvania, or Transylvania or wherever until Friday morning.
Never mind that I have rehearsal Friday night and will have no time to begin gluing frantically. Never mind that I have to sing at another wedding Saturday, which will literally take up hours of good gluing time. Never mind that on Sunday I have an approximately ten hour hair appointment, and then on Monday, everyone starts arriving from our of town and all hell will break loose.
I'm not freaking out yet. Really I'm not.