There are several things you rarely want to be late in life. Like your period, for instance. That’s one.


Less gross, though, are your wedding invitations. (As long as they’re not these, ’cause those are barfy.) You really don’t want those to be late, well, unless the only guest you want to come is no one.

Contrary to my usual anti-social tendencies, though, I actually do want people to come. Lots of ’em. So, it’s not like I planned to send them out so late (I’m getting married in 58 days, BUT WHO’S COUNTING!?); it just happened. One big reason was because I made the rather ill-advised (though still sorta worth it) decision to hand-craft them all by myself. And instead of taking a single afternoon like I calculated, they ended up taking about 2,323,523,567 afternoons. Give or take. (Clearly, I’m not that good at math.)

In any case, I finally—FINALLY—shoved them in the mail today, which was a simultaneously nerve-racking and incredibly relieving act. Nerve-racking because, after spending a fair amount of the previous month crafting cheap museum board and spray paint into veritable art, I’m hoping they all arrive to their destinations intact; and relieving because… I’M FREE!!!

Well, not really. Now, we just have to wait for the replies, then plan a seating chart, then figure out what the hell we’re gonna do to decorate the venue, then procure said decorations, then get my dress tailored (STILL HAVEN’T DONE THAT, OBVIOUSLY), then fine a rehearsal dinner venue, then become destitute because it’ll soon be time to start making it rain on our vendors, who have been incredibly patient, although probably not impressed, with our mad procrastination skillz.

But… one step at a time. And tonight? I’m celebrating getting the invites out, which means I’m not gonna think about weddings for… for 12 hours. Maybe I’ll go start a trash can fire and burn a gold-paint Sharpie to celebrate.