my brain hates me
Brain officially hates me. I outwardly feel fine (until, you know, I move. And then WOW am I tense).
Had a really weird dream where nothing was going right with the wedding ceremony. No one from my wedding party was there (Rey's side was). My coordinator wasn't to be found, so I was running around like a crazy person getting things done. Larry (my pastor) went on for a 90 minute sermon about the sanctity of Mawiage (at least I know my brain still has a sense of humor and refused to put the word Marriage out there). I had yet to walk down the aisle. Was in this horrible grape-purple wedding dress that had the audacity to call itself a dress in the first place. Finally, we're about to start when I realize that my 1/2 of the wedding party was nowhere to be found. So I rounded up my friend Dan to be the Man of honor. He was in a toga (because my brain translates Kilt for Toga). Since my bridesmaids weren't there, that meant my flower boy wasn't present either. So my oldest friend in some lavender purple baby-doll dress comes charging full tilt down the street jumping in for bridesmaid duty and is willing to let her 1 year old be the flower boy/ring bearer. And that's when I wake up.
Go home brain. You're drunk.
In reality, things are going REALLY well. I'm down to getting decorations, and there has only been a slight hiccup with security. But this, on top of moving, and just... coordinating is just... so much! I know. Dreams are the way for brains to let go of stress. But damn it!
Had a really weird dream where nothing was going right with the wedding ceremony. No one from my wedding party was there (Rey's side was). My coordinator wasn't to be found, so I was running around like a crazy person getting things done. Larry (my pastor) went on for a 90 minute sermon about the sanctity of Mawiage (at least I know my brain still has a sense of humor and refused to put the word Marriage out there). I had yet to walk down the aisle. Was in this horrible grape-purple wedding dress that had the audacity to call itself a dress in the first place. Finally, we're about to start when I realize that my 1/2 of the wedding party was nowhere to be found. So I rounded up my friend Dan to be the Man of honor. He was in a toga (because my brain translates Kilt for Toga). Since my bridesmaids weren't there, that meant my flower boy wasn't present either. So my oldest friend in some lavender purple baby-doll dress comes charging full tilt down the street jumping in for bridesmaid duty and is willing to let her 1 year old be the flower boy/ring bearer. And that's when I wake up.
Go home brain. You're drunk.
In reality, things are going REALLY well. I'm down to getting decorations, and there has only been a slight hiccup with security. But this, on top of moving, and just... coordinating is just... so much! I know. Dreams are the way for brains to let go of stress. But damn it!