I’m not behind on cooking, but I’m behind posting about it.
Our wedding is in two months.
The person we were working with at our venue quit.
We found out – on social media – that the parking lot where all of our guests were supposed to park is suddenly under construction for the next year.
Both of our toilets clogged at the same time.
We’ve been dealing with another plumbing issue in our house for over six months.
My lupus and rheumatoid arthritis are downright angry with me. Last weekend, my right knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Try walking down the aisle like that. In a short dress, no less.
I got into a car accident. My car may be totaled.
This is my life. One day, I will mean that in the best of ways. Right now, I wish I could just run away. It’s too much.
I thought having a small wedding would mean that there would be less drama, but no. If the issues with the venue weren’t enough, everyone has complaints. About the food – which is vegan – but they haven’t even had. About who is and isn’t invited. And you know what I say? Do me a favor, if you have an issue with the way I’m planning my wedding, don’t come. It’s not about them. It’s about us.
Honestly, if I have to do this ever again, I won’t do it. I’ll elope.
But oddly, every weekend when I meal prep, I’m grateful for the bounty in front of me. I look at all of the fresh vegetables and other healthy food, and I think, wow, I’m lucky I can keep this going in the midst of my life literally coming apart.
I feel like I try really hard to do the right thing and be a good person, but life is conspiring against me. If someone would have said, you became chronically ill in your early 20s, your dad died when you were in your late 20s, you’re going to have the same luck with everything in your life, I would have peaced out.
At least my vegan good game is on point, you know what I’m saying?