One week to go. Seven days. 168 hours, give or take.

Throughout the entire process of planning a wedding, I have considered myself to be a pretty "chill" bride. Stuff has gotten done.  Decisions have been made when decisions have needed to be made.  Creative touches, check.  And I'm on track with getting it all ready.  I really believe that.  There's not a tonne left to do, and there's ample time to do it.

And yet....

It's weird.  I'm so excited to be marrying the love of my life.  So excited for such a special day with friends and family.  But there's this weird pressure that comes as soon as it's a *wedding*.  It has to be the most incredible, most amazing, high point of your entire life, your existence is culminating in this moment kind of day.  Which, to be perfectly honest, I think is pretty much on track to be the case.  I have no doubt that our wedding day will be full of the ultimate amazingness.  It's just that it is supposed to be this that the weird pressure creeps up.

I suppose that this could be anticipation, but it doesn't feel quite the same.  With anticipation, the time drags by.  With this, it seems to speed closer with this undercurrent of dread that everything won't get done.  Which is silly.  As it stands, they'll be people, a person legally capable of marrying people, food, booze and tunes.  Everything else is superfluous details.  Superfluous details that are, by and large, complete.  If I don't remember to buy dental floss for the bathroom baskets, I'm pretty sure people won't walk out.

If you do, you're a jerk.

I've really enjoyed this process, and, because of that, I hate to see it marred by this late onslaught of stressy weirdness.  So I'll try to chill out.  And go buy the dental floss.