Home tomorrow. Home tomorrow.
Most nights I wake in the night and have absolutely no idea where I am. I rise early, try to cram in a workout, shower and dress, wait until the last possible moment to iron my suit, and head to the continental breakfast. During the days, I alternate between sitting in the meeting compulsively looking at my Treo and
One more week, and things will calm down.
In the meantime, Grace is going to murder me as I have not had a moment to discuss my bridal shower details with her. Sitting in this Verona meeting, I am attempting to put together the guest list and my instructions, which I just emailed to her:
1. No bingo.
2. No candy bars that have any ingredients for "love" or "happiness".
3. Games must not be tedious, but awesome.
4. Alcohol must be involved. Preferably that delicious punch stuff. Or Mimosas. And bloody marys.
5. Shower Power Hour?
6. Interesting door prizes. Let's crank it up a notch here. (Cheap, but not standard fare.)
7. Am I a bridezilla?
8. I LOVE YOU.
9. You are the woman for this job.
Yes. Yes, it will be awesome.