ERICA: Nobody tells brides the truth. They fail to mention that “getting back to real life” after 2 weeks in some dreamy locale, reckless eating, reckless spending and all sorts of other misbehavin’ seriously, truly, madly, deeply sucks. They leave out how hard it is to wake up every day and pick up your dirty sweatpants (and actually have to do laundry!), clean the gross hair out of the drain or actually be expected to run the dishwasher after you’ve had twice daily maid service in addition to the nightime, chocolate on the pillow sheet turn down. Or how your dog (who, truth be told, you often forget did NOT come from your own womb) would not, in fact, be happy to see you after your three week absence, but would instead stage a teenage-like rebellion that involved ignoring, avoidance and the coup de grace: peeing on our bed. Everyone fails to mention how the pressure of quickly turning around thank you notes (just to get them done and out of the way) begins to feel like a bone crushing physical illness or that you will likely be compelled to continue carrying around your digital camera for several days in your purse out of habit only to realize: “hmm…there is not a damn thing I want to take a picture of around here.” I guess I’ve officially begun the “bride detox.”
Having said all of that, it is sort of nice to to look at our weeks and months ahead and not be peeking through mounds of butter cream frosting, self-tanner bottles or beef vs. salmon debates. If I never see another seating chart in my life I’ll be a lucky girl. Now I just sit around like a crack addict waiting for my fix…which, these days, comes in the form of emails from our photographer with pics from the wedding.
So why is it that when I checked the mail yesterday and received two bridal magazines I still felt the need to lovingly flip through every page? Will that ever go away?