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Uncertainty is like the mean girl in middle school. You are sitting at the lunch table. Minding your own business. Uncertainty appears over your shoulder.  Knocks your lunch off the table. Steals your seat. Laughs at you.  She’s such a bitch.

She is for ever one step behind you.  Lurking. Judging. Waiting for your little ducks to be put in their row.  Don’t turn your back. Don’t let your guard down.  She’ll snatch the smallest duckling and take its place.

It happened to me during the wedding planning.

I never dreamt of my dream wedding like Jennifer Lopez did in The Wedding Planner. I’m not fancy.  I don’t like ornate.  I don’t like extravagant.  I don’t like cookie cutter. I have never thrown a formal anything.   I don’t like bedazzled. I am not lacy.  I’m way too klutzy for anything nice.

Suddenly, I am picking color schemes.  Choosing linens.  Trying on dresses.  Thinking about invitations.  Considering fonts. Worrying about discreetly numbering response cards.  Second guessing each choice.  Is this pretty?  Is this cheesy? Is this even right?

Uncertainty stuck her foot out and tripped me. I landed face first in a floral head trip.

I am not a flower person. I am allergic. Julie requested mums. Dad loved Mums. This was be a no-go for the florist. I had no plan-b. I panicked.  I allowed myself to be persuaded into ordering a generic bouquet.

A single rose surrounded by carnations. I instinctively knew my sister would hate it. I hated it.


Bullseye much?

The more I thought about it, the more it reminded me of the Target logo.  This haunted me for months. I  obsessively searched Pinterest.  I became fixated. I needed to find the perfect flowers. I  went back to the florist defeated. I went home relieved knowing we landed on irises. I won’t go into how many times I changed the favors. But if you need tulle rounds I have 175 unused pieces.

After the wedding I managed to kick uncertainty to the curb.  But I can feel her creeping in again as we take our first take our first steps toward adoption. She questions my every thought.  Every feeling. Every decision.

She is in my head. Follows me into the shower. Rides the train with me to work. I can’t shake her.


She even looks a little like me.

My gut reaction is to muffle her. Focus on spring cleaning. Focus on our spare room. Empty the closet. Rearrange the living room. Fill out paperwork.  Prepare questions. Create things. Write.  Keep myself busy.  Hold on to my lunch.  Keep my butt in the seat.

This was a Daily Prompt: Instinct response post.