I’m starting to get nervous.
I’m not good with nerves. I either pull the duvet over my head and pretend things simply aren’t happening, or I eat a lot of chocolate. Or drink a lot of wine.
Trying to be healthy, I went for a swim yesterday, and had a salad for lunch. It was a bit hot to get under the duvet, so I wore The Boo for a bit as a tummy warmer.
But the nerves were waiting round the corner and after dinner they struck again. I only got about 4 hours sleep last night. The Other Half went out for a few drinks with the boys, so slept like a log. I kept staring at him, willing him to wake up and talk to me because I was so jiggly and jumpy. But he slumbered gently on, and then told me he’d had an awful sleep. Yeah, right.
This is going to sound daft. I have absolutely no qualms at all about being married. It is the process of getting married which is disturbing me. And not the bits we’ve planned. Apart from my ever present fear that my shoes will fall off, it’s the whole ‘being on show’ bit which is getting to me. Not least because of a number of comments.
It’s not the photographs which bother me. I flipping love having my photo taken, as anyone who has so much as pointed a camera in my direction will know. I’m a terrible one for posing.
It’s being watched.
It’s really rather sweet that half the church congregation came up after the service on Sunday to say that they were going to come and see me walk in. And that our names are on the posters around the village because our flowers are staying in the church for an evening do.
And it’s lovely that apparently a lot of people are going to come and gawp at us over the wall (my father’s words, makes me feel as if we’re animals in a zoo).
I’m not Kate Middleton, Lord love her. I’m just me. I don’t want to be all on show.
Any chance I could have a body-double for the walk in and walk out bit, and I could pop out from behind the font and push her out of the way at the appropriate time? No one would notice, and I’m sure the dressmaker could run up another dress by Friday.
Simples. There are no problems, only solutions.
I’m not sure of my chances of finding a 6’ 2” body double by Friday, but I’m sure I’ll work something out.