A little Xanax for the Bride, please?

I know I’m pretty well organized & I’m still pretty far ahead of the game (even though I haven’t done anything for a couple months now). Everyone keeps talking about how calm I am, and how amazing that is. Here’s a little secret: I’m not calm.
We’re getting engagement pictures done on Sunday (pending rain & rescheduling). I wrote about picking out the place & the outfits weeks ago. We went to the park shortly after, nothing was really growing yet but it looked promising. Little did I know that this was enough exploring for Brandon. So when we came back from vacation a couple weeks ago & panic set it, he looked at me like, “What’s the deal, yo?”
Maybe he would never say “Yo,” but that’s besides the point.
Location being settled (upon final inspection, last weekend), I got on with the tough stuff. What to wear.
Brandon likes the way he dresses, and also kind of resents being told he should dress differently. He won’t go somewhere that has an official dress code, unless dictated by centuries old tradition. I wanted him to look like himself in these pictures, obviously. Just a very spiffy version of himself. I will admit I got VERY lucky finding some nice things on sale. I pre-scouted, pre-approved, and set out to find myself an outfit to coordinate.
My own attire was another matter of concern. I am officially the same size as my dress (yay!), but I’m not stopping my diet & exercise plan any time soon. I found an AMAZING dress online that was definitely on the expensive side, and also an ‘ok’ dress that was downright cheap. Neither were available in-store, plus I’d have to pay expedited shipping just to be sure they’d arrive on time. Panic ensued. Anyone who spoke to me in the next 24 hours will tell you that I was on the verge of a nervous break down. I finally decided to just brave the mall, and if I didn’t find anything promptly, hedge my bets & order something online.
So off to Macy’s I go. (I find it soothing there, don’t ask me why.) I walk into the mall shortly after 6, grab some dresses, send Christie text/picture messages from the dressing room for approval, scamper off to look at shoes, and am home just after 7pm.
I’m still convinced that’s a new world record.
Clothing: check!
Yesterday I checked the weather. I shouldn’t have. Scattered thunderstorms, 40% chance of precipitation. I’m aflutter with fending off frizzy hair and shiny forehead. No cure in sight, but I still have a couple days to find a magical solution.
Sigh.

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