They're Gone

Yesterday I took my two packed file boxes full of invitations to the downtown post office to meet a nice man named Enricho or, as I think of him, guardian of the most important paper I've been trusted with to date.

I arrived downtown and pulled the boxes out of my truck. A really nice man offered to help me carry them in, but I told him they weren't heavy, but I would appreciate help with the door. As I walked by him, I rolled my eyes and said, "Wedding Invitations." He put on a serious face and said, "I see you've only invited close family." Love it.

So I had Enricho paged and waited for him to arrive. This wasn't Enricho's first rodeo-- he came out with a handler, I assume in case the amount of invitations I had necessitated two people. I gave Enricho the brownies, which he handed over, stipulating that a) the brownies were for sharing among the team and b) that these invitations weren't to be run through any machine and were to be very carefully handled from here on out. It could've totally been Enricho's usual "bride-ready" talk, but it took care of me just fine. For all I know, my invitations went out back where they were promptly dumped in with the regular mail. As I see it, I tried!

I walked out of the post office and, I swear, I almost threw up on my shoes, which happened to be cute black flats. I was lightheaded and queasy for the next two hours, having to repeatedly stop and take deep breaths as I ran errands around town. I stopped in a package store to pick up some martini ingredients for some of the cocktail recipes B and I are testing out and all I could think about was, how often do people throw up before they purchase a large amount of alcohol?

To be honest, I think it was just such a relief and a shock to the system that the invitations are gone. Mom and I have been working on them since the beginning of February, they've been sitting in my living room floor for the past two weeks, and now they're gone. I feel like a nanny that just willingly gave her charge away. My Mom and sister in Mexico and B's on his bachelor trip, so I called B's Mom and told her they were gone and she understood-- Everyday it's getting more real and that's exciting, but also, well, big.

I met up with girlfriends for dinner and told them about my visit with Enricho and they laughed, shocked that the post office would actually take baked goods.

L: I thought you'd end up in jail.

Me: Well, I tied them up with a cute little ribbon and, besides that, it's not like they don't know where I live. It's printed on the back of every invitation.

So they're gone and I'm thrilled. One more thing to mark off the list. 63 days left!