Blink. Blink. Blink.
I sat at my desk, staring at my laptop, the cursor on my screen flickering in the same spot over and over, taunting me. Blink. Blink. Blink. I had been sitting there for 40 minutes, attempting to write a freelance piece that was already overdue, willing any ounce of creativity to trickle out of my body. But my fingers were frozen, my mind unfocused, my body tired and my imagination depleted. Blink. Blink. Blink.
I had been in this state for a few months. In addition to the usual juggling act of balancing a healthy personal life with running a business, I was planning my wedding, something I never realized required SO MUCH attention. I’ll admit that I always scoffed at brides who let weddings take over their lives (soooo lame), but when it came my time to tie the knot, I found wedding planning to be a total ball ache… a fucking full-time job. For something that was meant to be the happiest time of my life (planning the day I’d marry my best friend!), it became a burden, something that I dreaded talking or even thinking about. And because it seemed like it was all Damien and I ever discussed (or all anyone EVER asked me about), I never had a break from the intensity of it all – that escape at the end of the day where we would normally chill and laugh was replaced by frustrating conversations about budgets, last-minute changes and seating charts.