Warning: this post is wordy and blabbersome.
Sometimes I think getting married in your mid-20s, during the whole quarter-life-crisis phase, is really just a great way to get yourself halfway down crazy street. Only halfway, though, not the full way. But maybe I am just halfway down the street because I still have a lot of time to go before the wedding is here. Maybe this is the why your 30s seems to be the “it” age range to get married in. Although, I do know more and more people getting married in their early- to mid-20s, which makes me wonder if we are all clinging to relationships to keep us sane. I have a theory about how the Sex and the City carefree generation shattered after 9-11 when we suddenly all realized life is screwed up and short (but that’s a deep tangent for another day).
I am always worrying about something stupid. Planning a wedding is just giving me more things to worry about. Recently it was: what if my DJ crashes his car (but doesn’t get hurt or anything—I’m not morbid when thinking of ridiculous situations that involve others, only when they involve me), and this causes all his DJ equipment to bust up, making him impossibly late to the wedding??? Who thinks like this? I’m not sure. But, really, what do you even do in a situation like that?
Although I am getting married, I swear, I feel like I am a child. A child bride walking down the aisle who is still trying to decide what to be when she grows up. Really, what DO I want to be when I grow up? I like books so I work with books, but what happened to the days when I wanted to be a writer? And then, there’s that whole design thing I am dabbling in at continuing-ed classes, but do I want a job where I am designing 40 hours a week? Maybe, perhaps, oh I don’t know. I just often wonder how it’s possible that I will have a HUSBAND, something that sounded so mature, adult, and beyond my kiddie brain even just five years ago.
I know I am having a quarter-life crisis like pretty much every other 20-something who graduated college not really knowing why they majored in what they majored in, but there is something weird about going through this while I plan my walk down the aisle. I always thought confused-with-life, broke chicks who like to go out on the weekends (but let’s be honest here, I’m just so tired now when it comes to dressing up and going out) were the single ones living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in their studio apartments on the Upper East Side. I never associated them with girls like me who are getting married and making recipe binders. (Yeah, I know—who takes the time to make a recipe binder?) I just always believed married people had their sh*t together. They had very good jobs and concrete plans on what they wanted to do with their careers. They had sufficient funds in the bank and the possibility of buying a home. They didn’t worry about getting laid off because they had a sufficient savings cushion. I realize this is completely stupid considering the state of the economy. Also, thanks to shows like Teen Mom, I know it could be worse. (Oh, whoops, sorry. Did I say that out loud write that down?)
Maybe this is just the other way to do it. Finding a person who gets you when you still don’t get yourself. It’s about making it work when you don’t know what you yourself are working toward. After all, it really is the little things in life that you will take with you. Not your job or your career. Money comes and goes, or just goes but never comes. And you won’t remember the spreadsheet you created at 3:00 PM on a Tuesday. I often have to remind myself of these things as I lose my mind and put off doing things like re-formating my guest list.
Do you ever feel like being a Mrs. sounds old and funny?