I woke up this morning from my first real anxiety dream related to my wedding day. I can't remember all of it, but I do remember that on my way to the wedding I realised I had forgotten to buy a bindi (that stick on round disc many Indian women wear in the middle of their foreheads), so I noticed a young Indian woman walking towards me on the street wearing just the kind of silvery, sparkly bindi I needed to match my light grey and silver wedding sari. I demanded she stop and look in her handbag for a spare but she could only produce a fushia pink one the size of a ten penny piece.
While she was rummaging through her bag for me, I noticed my sister (I do not have one in real life) driving by and I hailed her down and asked that she turn back to the nearest Indian dress shop and collect a light grey blouse for me under my sari because I hadn't managed to buy one before. She protested, saying how would she know which one would fit as they would all be off the shelf, but I screamed at her to just get one that looked like it would fit me.
The wedding venue was already packed by the time I arrived and I was alarmed that the venue manager hadn't arranged any of the chairs in the ceremony room so our guests had to enter it carrying their own chairs.
My father was fretting, not knowing what to do in order to escort me down the aisle, so much so that I considered asking my mother to do the honours. On top of all this, the caterers hadn't even cooked the meal we would eat less than an hour later.
Three months to go...