I should have spent more time watching Bridezillas (that terrible, awesome TLC show). Then I would know what to do:
The frisbee team I play on has a major tournament this weekend. It is Sectionals, the first tournament of the Series, in which teams must participate and do well enough at to proceed to the remaining tournaments of the season. Unfortunately, it’s been raining in Nashville all week, and there is a very very good chance that we won’t be able to play on the water-logged fields. Which would have the effect of moving Sectionals to the following weekend.
Which is the weekend of my wedding.
Which would mean that, oh, half or so of my friends can’t come to my wedding (because, honestly, they are too important to their respective teams to miss Sectionals – oh, to have friends who suck at things). And a couple of my teammates can’t go to Sectionals (because, honestly, they are too important to my wedding to miss it). And, obviously, I don’t get to go to Sectionals – my second to last frisbee tournament for, at least, the next several years (if not forever and ever – there is NO frisbee scene where we are moving). Lose, lose, lose, all around.
Up to now, I had been getting increasingly nervous that I was going to a) get sick, b) get injured playing frisbee, or b2) get hit in the face with a frisbee and have a black eye or broken nose or giant gash on my face for the wedding. Now, it doesn’t matter: I won’t have the opportunity to injure myself in some ridiculous frisbee-related way, and even if I did, none of my friends will be there to witness my embarrassment and joy.
Waaaaah wah waaah (rain dancing, sobbing, etc.)