It’s dark.  My heart’s beating in my chest.  My nerves are on edge.  There’s a tightness in my throat, and my eyes are welling up.  All of a sudden I’m thrown into chaos.  My bridesmaids are rushing around me.  Everyone else slowly comes into focus.  Faces of my family and friends float around me.  It’s my wedding day.

I’m in a room.  It’s mine, but doesn’t look anything like it.  I can’t find my dress.  I feel the panic rising in my chest.  I’m frantic.  Searching, searching, searching.  Finally!   Tucked into the back corner of the closet.  A white garment bag with my dress in it.  Slowly I unzip the bag, filled with anticipation.  I pull the dress out and admire it for a moment and smile.

I walk into the kitchen to find my mother.  Dressed in a beautiful purple shirt.  She looks lovely.  Until she steps out from behind the center island.  She is wearing jeans shorts…for the wedding.  I am angry, frustrated.  Harsh words fly from my mouth like daggers.  She looks stunned.  I am pissed and storm out of the kitchen.

Once again I’m surrounded by my bridesmaids.  We are scattered around a room.  Girls are walking by with hair half done.  Partial curls frame faces.  Rollers create pinkish crowns above their heads.  “Where is my hair and make up team?”  I don’t see them anywhere.  From across the room, “They aren’t coming.  We told you to book earlier.”  I’m confused.  I see light coming from the closet and peer in.  Little S  is sitting on the floor getting her hair curled by CoLo.  JD is complaining that her hair isn’t holding curls.  I don’t see CMc and ASP  anywhere.

I walk onto a stair landing of a rustic looking building.  Nothing is ready for the ceremony or reception.  I start hammering pieces of wood that look like tree bark onto the railing to make it look nicer.  Then I realize that I am not ready.  My hair’s not done, I have no make up on, and I haven’t tried on my dress yet.  I rush into my room and slide the dress out of its bag.  I step into it and slide it up my body.  It looks beautiful, and I feel like a queen.  Someone zips it for me, and I turn and look into the mirror.  It’s too big!

I switch into panic mode, fighting back tears.  Can anyone pin it for me?  Is it too late for anyone to take it in a little?  My aunt steps up and says she can try, as long as she can find her sewing kit.  For a second I feel relief as I watch her turn…

Errrrr, errrrrr, errrrr, errrrr

I’m ripped from sleep by the sound of my alarm blaring in my ear.  I’m confused and realize that I am in bed, with T next to me, and that I should have gotten up 15 minutes earlier.  Damn snooze button that I don’t even realize that I’m hitting.  Damn wedding nightmares giving me a freaky start to my Friday.

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