A wise man once advised me to focus on "controlling the controllables" and, how, if you try to do anything else, madness lies therein. Despite this phrase having some real resonance and usefulness throughout my life, this has not stopped me obsessing over a number of wedding-related nightmare scenarios over which I have very little control, a selection of which I hereby confess:
The buffet causing food poisoning
We are using a very respectable caterers and there is no trace of oysters, pork or fugu on the menu, but a story from my mate Burnsy about her grandad being so ill at a family wedding he had to be sick in his Italian leather shoes has haunted me since my early teens.
My dress creasing on the way from my house to the wedding venue
Viscose discounted as suitable wedding dress fabric due to potential overheating and general disgustingness, I am now concerned that my beautiful fabric will concertina like paper in the short journey between home and venue.
I briefly entertained investigating whether there was a private hire car company that had a fleet of popemobiles available in the London area, but quickly discounted this. I am still considering getting my mum to sit in the front of the car with me virtually prostrate across the back seat, although I realise the classic bride setting off in the car shot may look a little unconventional (but maybe this lady was actually lying on her front for the same reason).
Me crying constantly throughout the day
I know I have to minimise alcohol intake, possibly not look my future husband, mother, in-law-to-bes or caterers for that matter in the eye, and I am also practising saying the vows as they instantly set me off into an over-emotional torrent. We've even split the speech thankyous by scoring my likelihood to cry on a scale of 1 to 5 being the deciding factor on who gets to thank who - I am left with the florists and cab company. Waterproof mascara it is, then.