This morning, my friend Laura and I went for a nice, long chatty walk. Seven miles of chatty. And then I spent the next two hours trying really, really hard not to puke. As it turns out, going for long chatty walks with nothing but coffee in your belly is not on the top ten list of good ideas. The weather was just so nice and the catching up so blessedly therapeutic, I didn’t notice until we were about a mile from returning home that my insides were fuh-reaking out. I think maybe this newfangled substance they call water would have been called for. Lesson learned.

Lesson also learned is that three or four months of inactivity is pretty effing difficult to overcome over the course of one Saturday morning. Who knew. But if that woman who wondered out loud if I was trying to lose weight for the wedding yet thought I shoulda been on it months ago, she’s probably shaking her head in utter disgust at my bridal diet failures. Ah, well. That’s why you have a dress MADE. Then it always fits. No matter how much you love cheese.

Speaking of! Um, wedding dresses, not cheese:  The shop in London has ordered my wedding dress fabric  from India and it should arrive the third week in March – in plenty of time for the dress maker to work her magic. Done and done!

Also done and done are the wedding invitations which arrived and are so wonderful. And unique. Seriously, should you ever require her services (she did the banner for this blog, too!), Maura at Paper Guppy is so easy to work with and unbelievably nice.

And semi related – the inspection issues are resolved and signed back. Next step, appraisal! Good grief, I can’t wait until this is all settled. I am not really much of an ‘up in the air’ kind of gal.

In case you hadn’t noticed.

I apologize that posting has been so spotty the last week or so – it’s a wee bit of a challenge keeping up with the blog (email, Facebook, Twitter, bills, People Magazine – you know, important things) without having a computer at home.

Living without “stuff” has meant that our down time is spent in more of an Amish fashion – and aside from the difficulties with my freelance work and the Dork Lord’s school, really not horrible. So we read instead of watch the next item in our Netflix queue or go on a walk instead of putter around on the interwebs. These are good things (the walks, especially. Living on melted cheese and beer is not exactly calorie efficient) and were I able to kick that pervasive feeling of ickiness with regard to the robbery, I could feign being largely unaffected.

Except, I’m nervous most of the time now.  And if you thought I was high strung before, well, I won’t lie – I’m a little less likable in this state. That said, I believe most of this is attitude, feeling sorry for myself is getting old, and henceforth (until I forget) I will direct my focus to the positive.

Like, the fabric that I fell in love with? The shop in London didn’t have enough. Now it must be special ordered from India and will take six weeks. Could that be a huge inconvenience? It could. But it could also mean I have more time to tone up these arms before trying on my wedding dress in front of floor to ceiling, three-way mirrors. Bright side!

Or like, the inspection didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I haven’t really had time to formulate a bright side for that one, but I’m sure it’s there!

This weekend, I’m committed to sitting down and writing thank you notes. I’m so lucky, you guys, for how supportive you’ve been – and for Maura, who (on top of doing our wedding invitations) offered to design and print This Fish thank you notes so that I could say danke schoen in style. The cards arrived yesterday and are absolutely delightful! Naturally. Everything she touches is gold and I can’t wait to send these beauties to you!

I suppose that the only downside to all this delight is, I have run out of ways to express my appreciation to her (and to all of you, for that matter). Thank you is beginning to seem so very insufficient. If only I had a skill like… interpretive dance.

I cried at work yesterday. In front of people. If there are more humiliating experiences to be had, I’m not aware of them (and I’ve been stripped naked in the ER after throwing up on myself, so I’ve experienced some humiliation). Part of my breakdown came from being tired for sure (still not sleeping, called the doc, they’re to busy to see me, need a new doctor, the end). Part of it is that two people should be doing my job and since I’m just one person – even a smart, hard working person -  I never get it all the way right. That’s such an ugly feeling.

Yesterday had some lovely bright spots, though! Real, in the mailbox mail (my name written all pretty on a purple envelope) and also ta da! the fabric sample that arrived from London turned out to be perfect. Now we’re crossing all our fingers and toes that they have enough of it.  And then revising the budget because they are not kidding about that ‘sound as a pound’ bit. Boy do we take it in the kidneys with that currency conversion! Worth it, though.

Also, we have plane tickets for the honeymoon. Eeee! And since the Boy’s father does a lot of traveling for work, we potentially have business class upgrades. Potentially, because the airline will let you know 24 hours before if the upgrades are available. Therefore, I’m potentially psyched not to sit in coach for that long flight!

Today is the inspection on the house. I’m choosing to believe it will go really, really well because oh, hey, did I tell you the Dork Lord had to have an emergency root canal on Monday morning? Surprise! Here’s your Novocaine; that’ll be $500. Yeeeeah. I’m definitely looking for the yin to that yang.

The Dork Lord’s parents took us to see Cirque du Soleil: Ovo this weekend (it was our Christmas gift; we’ve had an eight week build up). And all I have to say is, boy am I glad I never saw that show as a kid because everything – and I do mean everything – I experienced after would have earned so few Awesome Points in comparison. Holy. Badass. During the first act, I leaned over to my almost-sister-in-law,

“I’ve decided what I want to be when I grow up. It’s not too late, right?”

“No way.”

I’m gonna look into the job requirements, so don’t be surprised if you start hearing rumors of my incredible flexibility and uncanny knack to look ah-mazing in spandex.

And if your name is Teak, and you are ignoring my email asking for your mailing address, don’t make me beg. I’ll do it via video, wearing spandex and as I’m pre-Cirque training, I guarantee you don’t want that.

As of 1:30PM, I am – I believe this is the proper term -  in escrow.

There should be so many exclamation points after that but friends, I am so, so tired.

On the day that we were dealing with having most of our worldly belongings stolen, we were also in the process of making an offer on a home. I know! The Universe is just one crazy kid, right? I mean, why not take naturally stressful situations like planning a wedding and buying a home and then add robbery to it? I’d make a joke about an unplanned pregnancy, but come on, at this point, it would happen merely from suggestion.

Obviously, I didn’t want to say anything until there was actually something to say, but now there is – I have parted with earnest money and an April closing date is set. Pending inspection, etc. etc.

In case you’re thinking you missed something,  we were not in the market for a home. Not even sort of. But my architect coworker and her very talented carpenter husband put theirs on the market and I knew I would never find a custom kitchen like that as long as I lived (one that I could afford, anyway). So. We looked at the house on a whim and by the time we left, we were calling it “ours.” You know how that goes. So, we ran numbers (buying = cheaper than renting), got a little assistance from my mom, I applied for financing and holy cow, it turns out? My credit score is really, really good. What can I say, I love to pay bills. Anyway, six days later, we’re under contract. Because that is how we roll.

I want to be so much more peppy about this, but like I said: tired. So very tired. Last night, the Boy went to watch a basketball game with his buddies and I laid in bed flinching at every sound, every creak of the building, terrified that someone would come in. I know it’s irrational. I KNOW. But I can’t make it go away.

I am also fully aware of how silly this is going to sound, but periodically, I would succumb to a flash of panic, climb out of bed and move things. Like, my work laptop. It can’t possibly be safe wherever I have put it, so I have to move it. My great grandmother’s watch. Move it. Hide my purse, the phone charger I brought from work. Our passports. I did this until well after 1AM.

There  will be celebrating, because this house is precious and we are thrilled, but I’m pretty sure that a nap will have to happen first.

Now, who’s got some Xanax?