T minus 7

"Where's the contract? Steve, where's the contract for the DJ?!" Tim shrieks, shuffling through a pile of paper.

"I don't know, Tim."

"What do you mean, you don't know! You're supposed to be the organized one! This is the DJ for our wedding! If we don't find this, we're screwed!"

"Tim, we booked the guy three months ago. We paid a deposit. He'll be there."

Welcome to my life of the past eight weeks. Yes, Tim is the most beautiful, sexiest woman I have ever laid eyes on. She is also quickly losing her grip on sanity. I can't wait for our wedding to get here, not just because I love her, but because I don't want to duct tape her mouth shut.

We decided to keep the wedding small and cheap. And still, no matter how much time we devote to planning this five-hour event, we go to bed with a thousand details unattended to, and Tim can't sleep because of it.

"This is our one chance to get this right," she'll say, tears forming in her eyes. "If we screw this up, that's it."

I am so glad I waited until my 30's to get married. It made me realize that, whether the wedding is successful or disastrous, everyone, including us, will forget the details in a few years' time. We won't remember that the tablecloth did not match the flowers, or that the DJ pronounced Paulie's name wrong. And yet, these are just the things that Tim sweats endlessly about.

I tell her that this should be a happy time, that we should wake up thrilled every single day as we look forward to being husband and wife, that we are going to do something for each other that we have never done for anyone else, ever. I tell her I am excited because I know this is the first step toward our dream of having a family.

"I'll be excited after we cut the cake and dance," she says.

**********

"Hon, can you leave work early tomorrow?" she asks, as I stare at the TV.

"Hon?"

"What?!" I shout, then wheel around to look at her, and drop my Diet Pepsi.

In her underwear, she's as thin as an anorexic runway model.

"Jesus, Tim! You're wasting away!"

"I'm not that thin."

"You look sick!"

"Thanks."

She gained 10 pounds after moving in with me, which put her around 127. On her 5'2" frame, the result was curvy and delicious. She's at least 20 pounds lighter now, and believe me, her Angelina arms are not attractive.

"Seriously. Why are you losing so much weight?"

"If my wedding dress is too big, I can gain weight to fill it out. It's easier to gain than to lose."

"You're gonna make yourself sick."

"Leave me alone, please."

I realize the day is going to be here and gone before we know it. I really wish there were some way I could bottle it and save it, so I could sample it again in 20 years.

I've been thinking a lot about my life lately, about how far I have come as a person and how important this is for me. Ever since I was a kid, I have always wanted this, always envisioned myself married and having children. I am so happy to finally be going for it.

The only thing that annoys me is how I keep hearing the same jokes over and over: "Ready to take the plunge, Steve?", "Getting cold feet yet?", "Putting on the old ball and chain, huh?". Hilarious.

I would love to write more, but this is the busiest I have been in a long time. I'll try to check in briefly over the next couple of weeks, but it might be hard.

Wish me luck, thanks for reading, and I promise there will be more Bismarck when I get back home. With my new wife.

Sounds weird, eh?