An impending stag, more hen secrecy & relentless lists

Can someone invent a pause button for time please?


Suddenly time is running away with me. I cannot believe there are just 65 days left until the big day. If my life was a film, this is the point where there'd be a montage of calendar pages flipping over very quickly and clocks with fast spinning hands. Probably accompanied by some panicky music.

Most of the planning is in hand, it’s just daft bits and pieces left to do really. But still, I have lists on top of lists, and lists about the different lists. I am literally driving myself mad.

And this weekend is my fiancés stag do already! Now, I am 50/50 about the stag: 50% worried he’s going to come back shaved or with a limb in plaster. And the remaining 50% is absolutely delighted at the prospect of an entire weekend with sole control of the remote and several girlie films that I would never usually be allowed to watch. (In fact I’m making a list of things to watch as I type. Cos I haven't quite got enough lists have I?) I’m also going to enjoy a weekend of creativity, ploughing on with my various sewing projects for the wedding.

Heck. I might even go completely crazy and eat parmesan. My hubby-to-be loathes pongy cheese and always pulls a right face when I sprinkle it on my food. You’d think I was covering my spag bol with grated camel droppings the fuss he creates.

And meantime, the girls STILL seem to be planning, plotting and scheming for my hen. Honestly there's more conspiracy and secrecy surrounding my hen than a day in the office at MI5.

The other night my fiancé disappeared off to Best Girl Claire’s house for several hours, and told me I was banned from joining them because it was ‘hen preparation.’

He returned home completely pissed and mumbled “I needed to be drunk for what she made me do.” Then he passed out.

I am now genuinely very frightened.