SMACK
The realization of the fact that I'm getting MARRIED has been slowly overtaking my body the last couple of weeks.
Some of it has been conscious: In our bi-weekly sales meeting last week I said something to the effect of, "Our next meeting will be the last day that Swankette will be your co-worker." The eye candy I work with started freaking out, "What, you're leaving after the wedding?!?!?!?" Oh, but were our friends that generous as to gift us with enough funds that I could stop working post-honeymoon.... but come August 8 Swankette will no longer be reporting to work, SwankPoet will. (Everyone else got the mind fuck I was playing with them.)
Some of it has been obvious: As in I can't remember the last time I got a full, decent night's sleep. Although my insomnia has started to take on new forms.
Some of it has been random: After the millionth time signing my name the other day, I tried a hand at signing the new name. My current signature is more conceptual than legible - lots of loopy, low letters that lead to a squiggle for a last name. The new last name is much more angular, going to take some getting used to.
But last yesterday it all just hit me like a ton of bricks: HOLYCRAPIMGETTINGMARRIEDINTENDAYS.
Part of it was the actual typing of the new name - informing a colleague not to be surprised when I returned from my impending vacation and she started getting e-mails from SwankPoet.
Part of it is the fact that you can now look up our wedding date on the extended forecast.
But a lot more of it has to do with the fact that everything is taking on this weird, historic quality to it. Like yesterday was the last Wednesday I would ever go to work as a single person. I changed the sheets yesterday, and so now these are the last set of sheets I'll sleep on as a single person. Today was the last trip to the dentist as a single person. And it's not like any of these items is that big of a deal. It's not like my last Thursday at work was significantly different than my last Wednesday, or that either of those will be much different than my first Wednesday back as SwankPoet. There's nothing that special about the sheets on the bed. And the dentist's office was exactly the same as it is every three months (except for the fact that today I found myself in the odd position of having to give a biographical backround of Sweetie and a complete rundown of our relationship in about 15 second to the dentist). But DANG! I'm getting MARRIED!
OK, so it really probably has to do with the fact that I can now say with ABSOLUTE 100% certainty that there will be no Bastard of Swank, and there will be no more nookie until the wedding night, so hormones are a raging at the moment, but DANG! I'm getting MARRIED!
And now we arrive at the insufferable part of the engagement. It's 8 pm on Christmas Eve and the presents are under the tree already, so why do we have to wait to open them, why can't we do it now? Or just give me a hint of what I got. Come on, tell me. Don't make me wait, I want to know now. But the hints are torturing me so I'm just going to go on and on and on and on and on and on because the waiting is just SHEER TORTURE!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously, if we didn't have several thousand dollars tied up in this already, and friends and family hadn't spend hundreds of dollars to come participate, and there weren't that carrot at the end of the stick called Kauai I'd probably be forcing Sweetie to the JP's right this very second so we didn't have to wait any longer.
But wait we must. And I will do my best. Thankfully, there are lots of little details to address that will take much of my time and attention over the next week and a half. But man, I wish it were already here.
Some of it has been conscious: In our bi-weekly sales meeting last week I said something to the effect of, "Our next meeting will be the last day that Swankette will be your co-worker." The eye candy I work with started freaking out, "What, you're leaving after the wedding?!?!?!?" Oh, but were our friends that generous as to gift us with enough funds that I could stop working post-honeymoon.... but come August 8 Swankette will no longer be reporting to work, SwankPoet will. (Everyone else got the mind fuck I was playing with them.)
Some of it has been obvious: As in I can't remember the last time I got a full, decent night's sleep. Although my insomnia has started to take on new forms.
Some of it has been random: After the millionth time signing my name the other day, I tried a hand at signing the new name. My current signature is more conceptual than legible - lots of loopy, low letters that lead to a squiggle for a last name. The new last name is much more angular, going to take some getting used to.
But last yesterday it all just hit me like a ton of bricks: HOLYCRAPIMGETTINGMARRIEDINTENDAYS.
Part of it was the actual typing of the new name - informing a colleague not to be surprised when I returned from my impending vacation and she started getting e-mails from SwankPoet.
Part of it is the fact that you can now look up our wedding date on the extended forecast.
But a lot more of it has to do with the fact that everything is taking on this weird, historic quality to it. Like yesterday was the last Wednesday I would ever go to work as a single person. I changed the sheets yesterday, and so now these are the last set of sheets I'll sleep on as a single person. Today was the last trip to the dentist as a single person. And it's not like any of these items is that big of a deal. It's not like my last Thursday at work was significantly different than my last Wednesday, or that either of those will be much different than my first Wednesday back as SwankPoet. There's nothing that special about the sheets on the bed. And the dentist's office was exactly the same as it is every three months (except for the fact that today I found myself in the odd position of having to give a biographical backround of Sweetie and a complete rundown of our relationship in about 15 second to the dentist). But DANG! I'm getting MARRIED!
OK, so it really probably has to do with the fact that I can now say with ABSOLUTE 100% certainty that there will be no Bastard of Swank, and there will be no more nookie until the wedding night, so hormones are a raging at the moment, but DANG! I'm getting MARRIED!
And now we arrive at the insufferable part of the engagement. It's 8 pm on Christmas Eve and the presents are under the tree already, so why do we have to wait to open them, why can't we do it now? Or just give me a hint of what I got. Come on, tell me. Don't make me wait, I want to know now. But the hints are torturing me so I'm just going to go on and on and on and on and on and on because the waiting is just SHEER TORTURE!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously, if we didn't have several thousand dollars tied up in this already, and friends and family hadn't spend hundreds of dollars to come participate, and there weren't that carrot at the end of the stick called Kauai I'd probably be forcing Sweetie to the JP's right this very second so we didn't have to wait any longer.
But wait we must. And I will do my best. Thankfully, there are lots of little details to address that will take much of my time and attention over the next week and a half. But man, I wish it were already here.
posted by Swankette at 10:15 PM
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