I
worked late on some lovingly crafted code tonight, and I was just about to head to bed when it hit me:
One of the largest events of my life is fast approaching, and other than the occasional decision-making or invitation-sending, I haven't had a moment of concern over the significance. Who's in charge of the betting pool? I'll put $10 in for the ton-o-bricks to hit me on June 23rd.
Now who's running the pool for "distance from which his terrified scream is still audible" ?
Of course I'm joking about this [and now lying about it], and I'm sure all of my nervousness ended the moment she said "I does." What could I possibly worry about at this point? The deed is essentially done - the final nails have been driven into the, uh, sign above the door that says "Welcome to Andrew & Sally's House of Leisure & Cricket."
So I'm gonna go to bed, as originally intended, and we can just forget this little conversation. I don't know what the heck you're doing up this late anyway; Get a job or something. I'm going to start calling you Eddie if you keep this up.
It'll hit you at the weirdest moments, the realization of how large this event is in your life. It's one of those things like having a baby - it's the most important thing in the world to you, but so many other people have gone through it and just see it as a normal part of the process.
You can always pretend to be kidnapped and taken to remote locations unknown. When you're white and have a nice haircut, society (ie: Katie Couric & Matt Lauer) tend to forgive you for almost anything.