The fifth day before the Ides of March.
The Order of Service is complete (with a nice rewrite of the rings exchange that Sage did yesterday included), and I just picked up the actual programmes for the service. Amazon is delivering a bazillion balloons and stuff to Mindy for the reception. Suits are reserved. Hotel and car rented.
Now, I spend the next 3 days trying not to panic, that everyone involved knows what to do, that everything is going to go smoothly. Which, I’m sure, is true, because we have a circle of friends who are amazing at making wonderful things happen and you’ve all been stepping up and taking things out of my hands and making them better than I could have done myself. It’s heartwarming and wonderful and … terrifying.
I’m a programmer. I write code every day with things that say, (assert nil). That’s program code for, “this should never happen.” Parse that again: I work in a field where I intentionally plan for things that are impossible and write code to handle it. So here, I’m stretching my paranoid imaginings to things like, “what happens if the bar burns down on Friday?” It’s so hard to trust that the constants in reality will not vary. Blah.
Trying to relax. Nothing terribly bad has happened on the Ides of March for 2,057 years. And who even pays attention to ad XVII Kal. Apr? The 16° of March is a notoriously disaster-free day. Right?
See you all in 5 days.