I’m in a wedding in a little more than a month.  This is the first time anyone has ever asked me to be in their wedding, which naturally leads to the assumption that I am a terrible friend and no one wants me to share in their special day.  This may be true for some people I know, but overall, I’ve never been in a wedding because my closest friends aren’t married or got married when we weren’t close yet.  Plus I have this attitude about marriage (it’s dumb) and most females have way more friends who think differently (it’s awesome).  And honestly, if I were the type to get married, I’d probably choose bridesmaids who would return the favor someday.  I am unqualified on both counts.

One of the things I’ve learned is that weddings cost a shitload of money.  I knew this already; the cost of a wedding was one of the driving reasons for me to decide never to have one (although that one wedding I had cost about $50 and a box of cookies.  It may have been a bad idea, but at least it was cheap).  But it’s not just expensive for the couple getting married.  It’s expensive for the people in the wedding party, too.  First there’s the dress, which was almost $200.  Then there’s the room (oh yeah, it’s a travel wedding), which is $160.  Then there’s the wedding gift (price to be determined because I have no idea what I’m getting them yet), and the bridal shower contributions, and the bachelorette party, and it’s not just the money, it’s the time and keeping all these dates straight, and jesus christ why the fuck does anyone want to be in a wedding ever?

I kid, I kid.  I know why people want to be in weddings.  I want to be in this one, I swear I do, it’s just…fuck, man.  Forget promising to be with another person for the rest of your life, agreeing to take part in someone’s wedding is a commitment.

I will say that I couldn’t have picked a better time to be off work on Saturdays.  After jotting down the stuff that immediately sprang to mind, I have 8 events on the schedule within the next month.  Maybe “events” is too official a word; some of the stuff is hanging out with a person or having my nephew over to spend the night while his mother is out of town (for which I’ve prepared by putting all the Ren and Stimpy seasons on my Netflix queue).  I still have to plan these things, because even though I’ve got 8 things on the schedule already, I know I’m forgetting others and I can barely keep all this together in my head.

It’s a good thing I don’t have – I don’t think I have – anything on the schedule for tonight.  The allergies I’m dealing with right now are epic.  I look like a domestic battery victim.  My sneezing and sinus-related nastiness are so obnoxious that my boss sent me home.  Unrequested by me, I should point out, as I am generally not the type to leave work sick unless poop or vomit are involved.  I guess I just grossed her out.  Jesus, I grossed me out.  At one point today, I looked down and realized that I had snot not only on the front of my shirt, but also on my elbow.  On my elbow.

I stopped at Walgreen’s on the way home for Kleenex and Benadryl.  The old lady behind the register told me she’s had a ton of allergy people in there today, and that I should drink lemonade.  “The tarter the better!” she said.  While I certainly would like a nice tart lemonade, there’s no one around to make it for me, and I can’t make it for myself because I’m planning to get stoned like a motherfucker on all this Benadryl.