You know how they say pregnant women will have some intense dreams, especially towards the end of the pregnancy?

My metaphorical wedding pregnancy is almost over and I’m having all these horrible dreams that it’s the day of the wedding and I didn’t realize it.  Because that really makes sense, right?  All of a sudden it’s December 4th and…whoa…I must have forgotten I had something important to do.  What was that anyway?  Oh well, let’s just go to lunch and have a burger or something.

Last night I had a terrible dream that I forgot to make an appointment to get my hair done.  If you know me, you’d know this would be my worst nightmare.  I’m the kind of girl that could rock an outfit, but if my hair doesn’t look quite right, it’ll ruin my whole night.  It might be because I have the kind of hair that knows how to feel.  And 99% it feels a dislike for me because it very rarely chooses to work with me.

What’s that?  You’d like just one day of pretty curls?  Well, bwahaha – I shall cause rain today.

Don’t ask me how my hair has the ability to control the weather, either.  It’s a science thing.

Anyway, in the dream I showed up to the salon with my two maids of honor and begged them to fit us in because, oh stupid me, I completely forgot to make an appointment.  Allie and Tiffany sat right down and the stylists started to work diligently, curling and fussing over their tresses.  My stylist started asking me questions regarding what I’d like and I remember feeling really confused and not really describing the style well.  So she goes off for a little bit and I figure she’s getting tools or, who knows, maybe making an inspiration board for my updo for all I know.

But then time starts to tick away and she doesn’t come back.  Fast forward 30 minutes and nobody else seems to think this is weird.  Not one to rock the boat (gosh, I can’t even escape that personality trait in my dreams), I start panicking, but still nicely ask around about my stylist.  After a little while longer, and a glance at the clock that tells me I only have an hour until the wedding, I start really freaking out.  That’s when they nonchalantly give me a new stylist.

When this new stylist is done, my hair looks like a mess.  She slicked the front down with a crease in the middle and curled weird tendrils all around the back of my head.  I remember feeling the urge to panic and pull it out, via that crazy YouTube bride that started cutting her hair off in the most ultimate of freak-outs.

That’s when I woke up and realized it wasn’t December 4th.  I still have time to book my appointment at the salon.  And maybe my dream was a good warning to me.  Note to self – book a trial run.

Advertisements