When Michael and I got married, I was frequently warned about the inevitable post-wedding depression that would settle in once the festivities were over. I was told that after all the “fun” of planning an event for a year (or however long), suddenly having nothing to do with our spare time would make our lives seems sad. Ha, as if. I hated wedding planning, so I (wrongly) assumed that I would be spared the inevitable let down.
What actually happened was that the wedding was a shiny beacon of awesomeness. The morning after, I sat on the beach drinking mimosas from Solo cups with a handful of my closest friends, thinking,
“This is exactly where I’m meant to be right now, with exactly these people.” Then I went back to work on Tuesday. (If you learn anything from me, let it be not to go back to work on Tuesday.
Take a break or honeymoon or mini moon of some sort.) And that shiny beacon of awesomeness only served to demonstrate how unhappy I was with my day-to-day life….
