Pre-Nedding Jitters

And so, tomorrow is the big day. Having been calm, unflustered and relaxed about the whole thing, today I awoke at 8am with a raging tension headache, a dream about not having enough spoons (!?) still lingering in my mind, and a small knot of anxiety where my toast now lies. Another surprise is that I'm actually, geniuinely excited about the actual Civil (lack of) Ceremony, where Fisher and I will legally become a single entity and be forced to ask each other "do I like that, dear?" for all eternity. (The answer to that question will undoubtedly be: "Is it expensive? Is it rare and difficult to find? Then yes, dear, you like it.")

I don't want to imply that I didn't always think the actual signing was the integral part of this shindig - but I always looked on it as private, nothing to make a fuss about. In fact, making a fuss about it is an anathema. It's serious - a legally binding contract that is supposed to last until the day you kark it. That's some heavy shit, dudes, and not something I ever thought on as a show piece. White dresses, music, flowers, weeping mothers - all that's very well for some people, but in my mind, a marriage (or 'narriage') is a serious-minded affair, and, as with all things serious, I want to be left alone when doing it. You don't throw a party to celebrate signing the Official Secrets Act, do you? (Ok, I know that's not really a contract, but it was the best analogy I could come up with in the time.)

So the signing wasn't something I got excited about. It was business before pleasure. But now, despite the fact I still think it's serious, legal stuff, I'm also quite thrilled and excited about doing it. I'm still glad it's private, though.

Just got back from Dundee where I was off to pick up the hire car, which should fit the 6 Cheese Boarders. I was due to pick it up at 11am. What do I discover when I get there? The booking has gone missing, nowhere to be found, and there is no 7 seater car for us. Luckily, I fixed the fella with my beady eye and, smiling sweetly, told him that accidents happen and it won't matter a jot, as long as it's fixed. He therefore rang the nearest branch that did have a 7 seater and, at my suggestion, got some people to drive it up from Edinburgh for us. Had I not suggested it, I'm not sure the option would have popped into his mind - but all's well that ends well. It's now 2.45pm, we've spent the whole morning in Dundee when we should have been organising ourselves with final details and ensuring we were relaxed and ready for our Cheese Board guests this evening - but I refuse to become antsy. All will be well.

Altenatively, all will be terrible - but, even faced with faction fighting, tempests, guests struck by lightning - I intend to have a good time. Fuck 'em, I say. Fuck their charred, lightning struck corpses. I'm gettin' nedded!