post wedding blues

So: the bride's big day, she feels like a princess. Well, maybe. I would say I felt like Audrey Hepburn doing red carpet, were she young and modern in the world where I live today. I felt like a starlet, a diva, an Oscar Winner giving an acceptance speech. I wasn't bitchy, I didn't demand things, except a straw for a pre-ceremony bud lite.

My wedding day could not have been more amazing. My honeymoon to Myrtle Beach, SC was actually enhanced by the impending tropical storm we named Hanna. (We being whoever names storms, not my new husband or myself.) We arrived in MB late on Labor Day, the first of September. The tropical storm wind and rain didn't come in until Friday afternoon. The rain came down in diagonal sheets. The wind ripped through us with watery pin pricks that stung even the slightest sunburn. The ocean and the waves crept closer and covered the beach. Idiots and their children were swimming, late night, where a sandy beach used to be - hours before the storm. Flooding. In my stupor, and on the sixth floor of our honeymoon condo I only thought this: should I die tonight from chards of flying glass or my building falling down... what a way to go out. Sue me. I am overly dramatic.

Point being: the honeymoon was cool, but anxiety ridden. We came back to louisville, kentucky with less than a week to open gifts, unpack, catch up with friends... and to go back to our jobs and our daily routines. Oh, wait. Giant hurricane Kentucky windstorm. Nevermind about the daily routines... we sat in the dark for almost a full week. Hot water was a thing of the past. Reading and chatting by candlelight got really old, really fast. I escaped to Burger King one Friday night just to have somewhere to "be." He went to Wal-Mart. Ice, batteries? No, they don't have any of those in stock right now. WTF? Baby, you are supposed to be the provider, my manly man... get me some ice. NOW!

Kidding, it didn't go down completely like that. I am just saying, for the record, that the power outage sucked hard. I couldn't write thank you notes in the dark. I drank away the week. I got overwhelmed... that was my October.

It led me to November, when everything fell apart. Amber: at the hospital. Amber: off work, short term disability style. Amber: lost her groove and needs it back. Amber: god knows what it is wrong with her right now. And, since it is still November, "it" all leads me to this...

My marriage will likely survive. I'll get back to work by the end of the month and my bills will be paid. Life as a know it will resume rhythms, old and new. If I play my cards right, I can make an honest man out of my father, "Amber, I think you could do just about anything."

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