Throughout the course of my entire life, I have put everything off until the last possible minute. Growing up, I was famous for begging my mom to take me to Walmart at 10pm the night a huge project was due to buy markers and posterboard because I hadn't started it yet. My mom was always shaking her head at me and saying that one of these times I was not going to pull it off and I'd have to deal with the consequences. In college, we once had something like 8 weeks to work on this enormous research paper that was worth the majority of our grade. In typical me fashion, I waited until the night before it was due to start my research. I got off work around 8-8:30, high-tailed it down to the library where I spent upwards of $40 making copies of various journals and other materials to write my paper before the library closed at midnight. I stayed up all night long drinking copious amounts of Red Bull and coffee and finished that stupid paper at about 8:30am. My class was from 10:00 to 11:20, and I remember debating whether to grab a few hours of sleep, or just push through until class started, turn my paper in and ditch class. The next thing I remember, I woke up to realize I'd fallen asleep on my kitchen table and the clock on my VCR said it was exactly 11:20. After yelping a few obscenities that would have made a sailor wince, I dashed out the door on my bicycle and sped to my professor's office, hoping that I'd catch him on the off chance he would stop by there after class. I caught him going in the back door of his office with a stack of papers in his hand. He took one look at me and said, "this better be worth it." I got that paper back a few weeks later with the following message scribbled on the front, "You should have gone for a BS instead of a BA". He thought he was being so clever. I got an A on that paper. In fact, I always manage to pull magnificence out of thin air at the last minute. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT I DO. I sneeze glitter and fart rainbows. And just like that you're stuck with another retina scarring mental image. YOU'RE WELCOME.
Everyone told me to take more than 2 days off before the wedding. I swear I heard that a gazillion times in the months leading up to it. Unfortunately, I picked this moment to be a defiant 5 year old and only took 2 days off out of spite. SO THERE. I sure showed them.
Right.
But considering that over a week before the actual wedding, this happened:
I felt pretty confident that I had everything under control. Also, it's a good thing I have my ego in check.
We drove over to my parents' house from Cowtown Wednesday night after I got off work, and my brother and his girlfriend arrived on Thursday. I had a stroke of genius at some point in the weeks before this and had already sorted out all the centerpiece items into bags so each table had one bag full of items for a centerpiece. The plan was for my dad, my brother, his girlfriend and MacGyver to go over and set those up while we got ready Saturday morning.
On Thursday we went to the florist and picked up the flowers. And by florist, I mean Costco. A few dozen roses and a few bouquets of wildflowers later, we were good to go! God bless Costco.
Shortly after arriving back from Costco, I realized I'd forgotten the contacts I was going to wear for the ceremony back at our house. So while my parents went to the airport to pick up Turbo and his girlfriend, MacGyver and I drove all the way back to Cowtown the house to pick up my contacts. While we were there we remembered a few other things we'd forgotten so it ended up being a good use of our time. It was dark by the time we headed back, and we also may or may not have pillaged through the Cowtown forest with flashlights looking for ferns to use in the bouquets.
By Thursday night, the only things left to do were the flower arrangements, and the rehearsal dinner. Both of which had to happen on Friday. What was that about needing more time off?
Uh huh. I got this.
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