They have officially started.
They = wedding dreams.
No, not those dreams that little girls have about a big princess dress, gigantic cake, prince charming, etc. etc. I never was prone to those. I was far more focused on obtaining a pony than a prince. Incidentally, while I have the prince, I’m still 98.5% pony-free.
These are the kind of dreams overextended colleagues and classmates claimed they’d get in times of stress. The kind where you show up to work naked, or show up to class and realize you need to write an exam worth 75% of your grade that you were (up until that moment) completely unaware of.
I’d be the last to say that wedding planning is stressing me out, but I’m still having semi-regular dreams about showing up to my wedding, and realizing I’ve forgotten to organize about 80% of it. Subconsciously created catastrophes have included:
Of course, I show up thinking everything is hunky-dory, and it’s only when someone else in the dream draws my attention to the missing elements that I start to freak out.
And, for a special treat, in a strangely Hofstadtean twist, I managed to startle myself awake from a dream just the other night in which various family and friends were trying to calm me down because I was so freaked out about yet another wedding dream in which I’d managed to forget to plan any number of things.
In case that was confusing: I have progressed to dreaming about having these dreams.
And while I suppose it’s good that my subconscious is acknowledging the momentous nature of entering into a marriage (because goodness knows I’m acting laissez faire enough about the wedding to drive my mom crazy – sorry mom!), these wedding dreams can feel free to fuck right off any time now.
Because if this is what I’m in for over the next nine months… well let’s just say elopement is sounding better and better…