F is for Frantic

I have exactly seventy-five minutes to write this post, get dressed for the wedding rehearsal dinner, kick the contractor out of my house, and get to the church on time.

Isn’t the last part a song?

Well, it didn’t happen.  It’s the next morning.  This blog post is now about friends, fun, fish, fighting (more like lively discussion), footwear, and a flash from the past.

Here’s the recap. I went to the rehearsal, glad I wore pants since there was no heat in the church.  I ran into an old friend, Kari, mother of daughters the same age as my youngest, now working at the church as wedding coordinator.  Then there was the rehearsal dinner where I had a lively discussion about immigrants, over wild salmon and potatoes, with a retired Republican and a diplomatic minister.

Then it was off to the nightclub where everyone who has been waiting for live music all winter showed up to dance to Pride and Joy. The place was packed to the gills.  I spent my night hugging and saying hello to friend after dancing friend. I had brought my dancing shoes in a bag but didn’t change back into my boots that go with the wedding outfit for today.

You know where this is going, right? So when I got home, took off my dancing shoes and pulled one boot out of the shoe bag but not the other, I cursed myself for not changing back into my boots. Hopefully it was in the car. I went out to check and to get my phone. Nope, no boot.

Fortunately the nightclub is close to my house. Unfortunately it doesn’t open until 6:00 p.m. It doesn’t look good for wearing those boots to the wedding.

It could’ve been worse. I could’ve lost the poem I am reading today.

How does this happen to me?  I’ve left eye glasses, earrings, and now a boot at dancing venues.  Truth be told, I was thoroughly exhausted when I left to go home last night. Also, I wanted to walk out with my friends, not that anything would happen in San Ramon, but it always feels better being with others in case some weirdo suddenly decides to follow me out the door.

After a restless night of sleep, complete with weird dreams and my phone flashing half the night, I woke up to a dog nuzzling my hand. That’s right.  I had shut them away from their doggie door in case either dog wanted to start a fight with a rat in the middle of the night.

I am not going to panic. I have other boots I can wear to the wedding.  I have to ignore the fact that I practiced walking up to the altar while wearing the now-missing boot. Or that that particular pair of boots look sharp with the dress I am wearing.

That’s right. Today I am wearing a dress. Kari assures me the heat will be turned on.

 

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