No, really. I seriously itch.
And though I wish I could blame the itch on my nerves, instead I’m blaming it on the rash of poison ivy that has taken hold of my hands and face and throwing my wedding anxiety into overdrive.
Cuz dude, a bride looks bomb with ivy blisters.
Though I have no idea where or when I made contact with that demon plant, we have been working day and night both inside and outside on the farm. Last week my future MIL and I spent two days refinishing floors at both our houses, and I’m still working on washing walls, woodwork, and general deep cleaning since Mom moved out last month.
I vowed (pun?) that this wedding would be stress-free. I’d have everything done and I’d be laying poolside all month working on my perfect tan to complement the ivory of my dress. I’d work overtime in June so that the rest of the summer would be a dreamy pre-wedding honeymoon phase.
Instead, I look like the bruised and battered 6 year old, reminiscent of the summers I spent as a kid on the farm. Dirty, grimy, and my house is in complete and utter disarray.
In 27 days this whole thing will be over and I can finally get to the stuff of dreams: being married to Scott. But wedding planning is not my forte, and I cannot wait for life to resume normal activity. Dining, dating, and a titch more leisure time.
Wish me luck, or just send help to the farm. I’ll be the one outside covered in poison ivy.