Yes, He's Cute But He Scratches Incessantly

I am overwhelmed to the point of paralysis today. I can't focus on anything more complex than doing the dishes and even figuring out what to do with the coffee grounds is a bit more troublesome than it should be for me.

I am having a bridal shower here in five days. In this house. This house that is dusty and cluttered, and what is it about having guests that makes the spider webs suddenly begin to glow like phosphorescent Silly String under a black light? I don't notice the webs until...a guest walks into the house at which point I see them, glowing like neon in every nook and cranny and corner of the house and besides that, am I supposed to clean the mold off the walls too?

And the wedding- it's in two weeks and five days. I keep having nightmares about my house not being clean and there not being clean sheets on the beds for all the many people who are no doubt going to be staying here. One night recently I dreamed that I had arms-full of sheets to wash and there was an entire Laundromat at my house but ALL THE MACHINES WERE FILLED WITH OTHER PEOPLE'S LAUNDRY.
In my own house.

Last night I dreamed the the guests included Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. Angelina asked me to examine her pregnant belly (which is actually something I know how to do) and I did, but it was terrifically stressful for me to have to tell her that she was not actually pregnant. The poor, self-deluding movie star!

God, she was beautiful.

But really- should I be having dreams like this?

I don't think so.

Meanwhile, my four dogs need flea preventative which costs as much per dog per month as it would to send four hundred children in Somalia a month's worth of high-protein gruel. I don't even like my dogs, which makes me think perhaps I should just kill them and send all that money to Somalia.

But we know that's not going to happen although what probably WILL happen is that during the bridal shower, during the let's-make-the-bride-a-dress-out-of-toilet-paper portion of the proceedings, people will start scratching their ankles because I haven't bought the flea treatment and before long, there will be blood running from my mother's ankles because if she so much as touches her skin firmly, it bleeds and the blood will get all over the toilet-paper-wedding dress and that will be a bad, bad omen and Lily will cry and everyone will leave before we can play pin-the-boutonniere-on-the-big-picture-of-the-groom game and I'll have cleaned the house and made cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches for nothing.

Okay. Now let's talk about shoes. I ordered the most beautiful dress off of E-Bay for me, the Mother of The Bride, and it got here and it's so lovely and it fits, mostly, but the way I've been eating lately it won't come close to fitting in two weeks and five days and then what will I do? And shoes- what sort of shoes does one wear with a peachy-pink gossamer gown that looks as if it might have been made by magical nuns who cast spells on spiders to harvest their silk to make this thing?

Or rayon. Rayon spiders. But still, magic had to have been involved. And nuns- the color is that innocent, that shy, that demure and chaste.

What kind of shoes goes with that?

Frankly, I think that going barefoot would be the answer and I'd promise to paint my toenails but I don't think Lily would buy that and besides, what would the groom's family think?

Okay. I need to take a breath. I need to go for a walk. I need to start dealing with dust and clutter and spider webs and mold and sheets.

I need to go buy flea treatment.

And shoes. And cucumbers and cream cheese.

And vodka. I need to buy vodka.