Stress Feast

People are born one of two ways: eaters or non-eaters in time of stress . And, damn it, I am the eating breed.

This wedding is not helping things. I have been doing really well until I ended up in the edit studio. The amazing hospitality is filled with granted wishes full of candy, popcorn, hotdogs, sweet treats, and yes, even adult beverages. The advertising business is one full of stress, but also full of fun. It is a the fashion competition you remember from high school, it is a contest of pulling the most billable hours while drinking on the clients dime, and always a balls-to-the-wall style of getting the job done in the most panicked, ulcer-inducing fashion.
So, I am in the edit studio undoing all of my hardwork through out of the week of long runs and hard work outs. At this point the sugar high has diminshed itself to the sugar lull accompanied by droppy eyelids, sore stomach and sleepy thoughts. I am without motivation for the next workout.

What came over me, what monster was that? Yes, I munch. But it is very planned munching on carrots, cherries, grapes, a few crackers, and on occasion, half of a naked asiago bagel. I never allow myself to eat reeses peanut butter cups, twix, 3 musketeers, mr. goodbar, milky way and hersey kisses. Then I finished up with some extra salty popcorn. And I could even eat more. I think I hear a hershey kiss begging me to let him play with his friends who a riding a rollercoaster in my stomach.

Three and a half months to go. As the days click off, stress clicks up. I need to leave right now to go for a run.

Step One, Find the Isle.

So I got engaged and then I got giddy.
Filled with excitement of the upcoming milestone celebration, I jumped ring first into the Martha-Stewart-Like-Planning of My Wedding.

Church.
Call the church.
Easy, I attend church, I have a church!
My first phone call ended in shock and disappointment.
“It costs how much? You are booked until when?” All along, I thought the church would be cheapest and the easiest of all the extensive line items.
9 months to plan a wedding? Even though 9 months is long enough to make, plan, gestate and birth a little life form, apparently it is not long enough to plan a walk down the isle.
So fine, I thought. I don’t need that church. There is a church on every corner and lucky for me my parents made me try out each Christian Religion during childhood so I could really stake claim at any of them. I started hunting armed with my computer and blackberry. Lunch hours were filled with church visits, dragging co-workers along to uncharted terrain of the Tampa Bay area.
Another lunch hunt and I set out to find My Church. Most churches are locked a result from the world becoming to hurtful of a place. Now, crisis must come by a scheduled appointment to pray. But this little historic church near our reception site tucked into a perfect little neighborhood has less to fear than most, maybe it will be open. I tried the door, and shock, it was open! I went inside and there were three people spread throughout. I thought this is nice – people coming to pray on their lunch hour. I spied a door from the Chapel into the main church and was planning on saying a “please help this wedding” prayer before venturing into the main church. Just then, a man donning a white robe made an entrance with a Bible and stood before the alter. “Uh oh, I told myself, this is mass!”
“Good Afternoon.” The Father announced looking straight at me.
“Good Afternoon, Father” I said looking bewildered returning the gaze.
“We have come together this afternoon to share in a memorial service of a dear friend,” he says still speaking directly to me.
“Oh my, are you really?” I question - yes, outloud - even more unintelligible than the first response. I start to stand.
“Yes, yes we are. But I am not telling you to for you to leave, you are welcome.”
“Oh, thank you, but I will leave you. Umm, I am sorry,” I fumble. “Umm, well I am sorry, please, really sorry,” I continue to fumble and walk quickly to the door. “Bye, have a good … well, sorry, umm” I can’t get to the door fast enough. These ten steps might be the longest I have ever walked and my legs are feeling a little faint, each step pronounces my awkward presence even more so.
I open the historic beautiful arched wood door and almost run out.
And then I hear the loudest “WHAM” behind me.
I spin around to see the door sitting there, silent now, mocking me. I forgot to hold the door and the heavy piece of history slammed its beauty shut.

Lesson learned. Patience. I went back to My Church all scheduled our wedding date. And I could not be more pleased.