A Rumbly in My Tumbly
Or, rather, a very tight knot with butterflies flittering around it, totally carefree of the impact this makes on my already agitated insides.
My dress is hanging in Donna’s closet.
My roommates are flying in to the OC in two days.
I’ll see my mom and pop in three days, and the bro and sis in four.
In five days we’ll play pretend wedding, in six we’ll do it for real.
We’ll dance and eat and laugh and celebrate and maybe cry. We’ll eat cupcakes and tease each other and be totally amazed that it’s finally here. In seven days we’re honeymoon-bound. Married, adventuring. Finally.
My tumbly doesn’t know how to handle all this… neither do I. I guess knots and butterflies are the best we can do.
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