One of the many character flaws that I am guilty of, to a level that could be deemed premeditated – making any small function impossible to live up to itself. It could be something as innocent as a dinner party with several close couple friends to holiday dinners with family that we haven’t seen for the whole year.
These events usually start innocently enough with a trip to the Pier 1, William Sonoma or Crate and Barrel websites to steal ideas for decorating and food. With a theme safely clutched in my mind, the pondering begins. I am usually able to procure items needed in various tubs stored in the closet or from less pricey stores. With several weeks to go before the “big day”, life goes on for “normal” people. For me, the mental ballet has only just begun.
I have been known to run so many possible scenarios on a somewhat constant loop in my mind, that my ex-husband said that many times he had awoken to full “projected” conversations that I played them out in my dreams. Sometimes I fester over food choices or worry about how this person and that person will get along – it is pure madness. I acknowledge, it’s a control thing.
I should go under oath now, and apologize to anyone who has been in attendance for any function that I have been associated with because by the time I actually attend any of these functions, I feel as though I am watching a rerun. Clearly, I have already been through this and have also tried multiple endings to this party, so if I ever gave off an air of boredom, it’s not that, so please forgive me.
These things just never seem to match what I had in my mind. In defense of whatever event it is – by the time I’m finished with it, there is no way it could hold a candle to the build up inside this brain of mine.
I am sorry to report that this ailment I suffer from seems to be of the genetic type. My youngest is T minus 8 weeks from her wedding day and deep in the throws of over-thinking, much like her older sister whom I have caught “working” her way through some rapid eye movement while staring into the empty space over her dining room table. These girls of mine can’t fool an old pro like me. I can almost imagine the conversations going in those sweet heads of theirs.