So. No advice.
One of the things I am the most happy about doing for my own personal marriage ceremony and dance party is picking food that brings me joy and that I can have whenever I want.
The past week has been straight garbage, and next week promises mostly more of the same. It all came to a head when I attempted to pick up at 5:58 from a store that said they close at 6...only to find them dark and locked. I trudged my way back to where a bus may or may not every appear and down the block I spotted my favorite big blue van. I literally, actually, not metaphorically ran towards the 5411 truck, terrified that it was only a mirage, that my psyche had also decided to screw me over this week.
But there it was!
On my wedding day, I ate protein bar for lunch. Which was good because, post ceremony, anything resembling an appetite quickly evaporate and was replaced with medical-grade adrenalin and pure joy. I became my least favorite bridal cliche - the girl who eats nothing. Every bite of everything tasted like egg cartons. I dutifully attempted three or four swallows but eventually gave up, insisting that others eat my share since they could enjoy it far more than me.
And enjoy it they did.
The bacon, date, goat cheese empanada game that night was fire. Our 100 guests cruised through about 200 of those suckers. No regrets.
And now, every time I see that truck, I have a free pass to get myself an empanada (or two), maybe even a couple for the mister. And I get to relive that joy all over again. Of being surrounded by my favorite people, of dancing to my favorite songs with mah best girls, to my whole famn damily getting outrageous, to a midnight kiss that is scheduled to last for another 29,901 days.
But this time I get to enjoy the snacks too.