the plunge

Just before waking up, I dreamed it was Wedding Day. We were in a different hotel, and the layout was all different from what we'd discussed, but none of it fazed me. I was happy.

Then I realized that in all the hustle and bustle of preparations, I had not made arrangements to pick up my gown. I freaked out and ran around till I found my bil, Jeff, who is IRL a cool bil but very easily annoyed, and somewhat sarcastic.

"Jeff! I never picked up my dress. You've got to help me!"

"What am I supposed to do?!"

"HELP ME! Go to the dress shop and pick it up for me!"

It then also occurred to me that the bridesmaid dresses had not been distributed to the bridesmaids. (IRL, this is mostly not true.)

Jeff was still yawning with boredom over my dress problems, but he managed to say, "I'll call mom," referring to our MIL (well, his MIL, my MIL-to-be).

"WHAT?! She doesn't even drive!"

Jeff, already dialing MIL's number, seemed totally unwilling to help me out (Scott says I HAVE to tell Jeff the story of this dream; he seems to think Jeff would find it funny) so I had to concede that getting married in the dress I had on would not be such a bad thing.

I then realized that this was not the real wedding day at all, but some kind of rehearsal. I was very relieved, and I guess my brain was slowly waking up, because I also realized that I was dreaming. What did I decide to do with this realization? Not run up to someone I dislike and kick them in the shins. Not run to the buffet line and eat everything in sight. Instead, I hurled myself over the banister - from the fifth or so floor, all the way down to the lobby.

It did hurt, when I landed on my feet.

Symbolism: taking the plunge. Practice time is almost over. We are getting married. It's coming.

In the past few months, we have had some fights - some minor, a few major, and some downright stupid, but nothing we haven't walked away from intact or even stronger. My happiness in the dream was real. (Let's just hope I remember to pick up my dress.)