A Small Victory

20 days

I have this thing where I wait and wait and wait to accomplish tasks that need to be done and then I do them all at the last minute, in a flurry of anxiety and haste. It works out ok though. I do my best stuff under pressure.

We're getting married in 20 days. Today, we will cram everything we were supposed to be doing the past few weeks into a couple of hours.

First, we'll head to Town Hall to get our marraige license. This will be fun because the place where we have to stand on line to get the license looks into my ex-husbands office. Can you feel the tension?

While we are in that area, we'll make a stop at Motor Vehicle and renew my driver's license, which expired almost a year ago. How's that for procrastination? I have twenty days left before they make me take the road test again. I've been driving for over twenty years and let me tell you, I would fail that test in a minute.

Oh, I can't drive with one hand while I fiddle with the CD player with the other?

Well, I thought you could make a left on red if you were already within ten feet of the intersection when the light changed.

But, hey...I don't talk on the phone while I drive and I always use my turn signals. That has to count for something, right?

After that, we'll go get our rings (no, we are not getting the Spider-man rings or the decoder rings) and then go shopping for something to wear for the ceremony. The ceremony that will last all of ten minutes. I hope.

Two of the Judges I work for are performing the ceremony. One of them thinks he's a comedian. The other one talks in legalese 24 hours a day. I warned Judge Comedian that this is a wedding, not a roast. That making fun of the bride on her wedding day is not in good taste. I gave him warnings:

He is not to mention the time I gave him a tampon when he wanted candy.

He is not to talk about my two hour lunches. Hey, I'm a civil servant. Aren't I entitled to take more lunch time than is afforded me in the rules?

He is not to talk about the time I came back to work drunk after Bonnie's birthday lunch.

The other Judge will keep him in check. I hope. Maybe if they combine the legal words with subtle humor it will work out ok and I won't have to push either of them into the pool.

So, when all that stuff is done, I have to come home and get Natalie and take her shopping for something to wear. Keep in mind this is a very casual wedding. (For those of you attending and have asked what casual means, it means wear something that you won't mind wearing when you are inevitbaly thrown into the pool).

The shopping will go something like this:

No, Natalie, casual does not mean a Linkin Park t-shirt and shorts. At least not for the ceremony.

WhatEVER, mom.

20 days. 20 days. 20 days. I sent the caterer the check and the list of food we want. We ordered the tables and chairs to be rented. I have to get a haircut, which I haven't done in about a year. I fell the other day and I have a nasty looking scrape on my chin. I have to convince Justin to get rid of those sideburns but keep the goatee.

The ceremony will be over in ten minutes. Then we can party and mingle and drink tequila until I'm so drunk I fall into the pool and nobody notices because Bonnie is standing on the table doing a striptease with Baz, and Choire and Nancy and Chris are fighting over who will get to blog about if first.

But I'll be married. And my kids will have a stepdad instead of a mommy's boyfriend.

And we will all live happily ever after, even if I have to hold a grudge against my Judges for the rest of my career.