Marriage: Day Two

The single most life-changing weekend of my life has come and passed. What I am left with is memories of an emotional event, and some semblances of a hangover. I couldn’t have asked for a better family to marry into, or one that has sent me off into the land of unreal responsibility.

Speaking of the latter. I have woken up at 8 am sharp every fucking morning. I am not sure if this is some strange cosmic joke, but I need my beauty sleep. I always wondered how my dad could wake up at the butt crack of 8 no matter the circumstances of the previous night’s events.

I also now have strange aches and pains where I had no previous knowledge that muscles existed. My knees hurt, my legs hurt, my back hurts, but I can hardly complain with an angel in the next room. An angel, by the way, who has infinite wisdom into how I should eat and exercise. YAY!

Speaking of my aching back, somewhere along the way, I sneezed and threw it out. Nice joke, but couldn’t I have injured myself in a less ridiculous way. It’s not all bad. I just feel pain when I cough, sneeze, laugh and breath. Otherwise, I’m skating man.

Once again, I’m shattered, tattered and torn, but I couldn’t be any happier. Strange how life is sometimes.

Countdown to Marriage: 23 days out

Marriage is a funny thing. Actually, no it’s not. Strike that thought and we will move right along. Marriage is scary as shit.

There, that’s more like it.

I now have 23 days left of life as I have always known it. Soon, the days of waking up when ever I goddamn please , and eating whatever satisfies me and my taste buds is over. It will soon be replaced by Sunday drives to Home Depot, and trying to make my shits as quiet as possible. Allow me to say, I love this girl. I guess it’s a pretty good thing that I decided to marry her then.

I just wanted to take this time to say good-bye to life as it was. For 31 years I have been responsible for just me. I haven’t necessarily been successful in this endeavor. If raising myself was a career choice, I would have been canned a while ago. I am fat, drink too much, eat too often and find cartoons way too funny for my own good.

In a way I am puzzled what would drive some mad person to say yes to the all-important question uttered from my mouth.

Well, now I have another person to think about, and that scares me.

I am not bothered by the fear in the least. I think fear can be the best emotion we have at times. I would rather be scared to death about the next step than be blase about it. So here I am. Standing atop the precipice ready to leap. So how do I enjoy my last vestiges of bachelorhood before I jump? Beer, Dodgers and a sofa, I hope she knows what she is getting into.