My whole face hurts from a full day of making my squnch stress face. This is one of those days that I hate my fiance's job. I'm having a freakout and I can't even call him because he's flying. I literally haven't even felt like eating. Which, if you don't know me, is big news. I love grub.
Why am I having a freakout? Rewind to yesterday. I finally heard back from the photographer I'd been waiting to hear from and we were leaning towards choosing. Yay! Then, a friend and I went to a charity event that is a really cool party with both silent and live auctions. Swanky, fun, good cause, all around fantastic. I was excited to run into my planner there then froze and wanted to run like a spider that's been spotted when I saw that she was with her friend, the other finalist we are not choosing. Oh shhhhhiiiii. But my friend told me to deal, she wanted to meet my planner. So we made our way over. Thankfully the photographer went off to watch the live auction. I loved her shoes. And the fact that ten minutes later she came back and announced that she had just bid on and won a bachelorette party. She's way married. It was just so damn funny, I fell in love with her. Before when we met her, it was my first photographer interview (which I kind of suck at apparently) and I was all nervous. This time we'd both had a drink and were relaxed.
When I finally got home, I was once again undecided on this photographer business. Soon after crawling into bed, it became glaringly obvious that sleep was out of the question. So I pulled on my sweats and did what any logical person does at 12:30 at night: called my mom and drove to Jack in the Box. After sitting in the parking lot talking to her for an hour, (and she's one hour later than me...) I got a chicken sandwich meal and went home. Between the food and the time I was finally able to get to sleep at two - with no creepy dreams to speak of!
But I woke up with the same squnch face. I've had it all day. I'm ashamed to say it's seriously affecting my productivity. I've spent hours now that I'll need to make up later obsessively comparing their portfolios. Alllllmost deciding one way, getting squirrely and going back to zero. Why are seemingly simple decisions so difficult?
I think the bottom line is that I want her to take the pictures he does.