To accurately express what went down that Friday morning, I should first explain how things were supposed to go. First, I was going to treat my bridesmaids to mani-pedis and brunch. After that, we would go check into the hotel downtown and have a fun-filled day in the French Quarter and meet up with some other friends in from out of town. In a moment of extremely wishful thinking the week before, I even bought a lovely strapless maxi dress for that day to avoid tan lines because it was sure to be sunny and perfect!
Let's all say it together now: "Things did not go as planned."
As soon as I woke up, I knew things were off. I felt like crud. Not really a hangover, but just one of those times when some Advil, Gatorade, and a half hour more of sleep would have worked wonders. There was no time for that, though, since we had a schedule to keep. I powered through the basic tasks of getting ready kind of slowly, but sometime after getting out of the shower, and before the rest of the girls arrived, I learned what an anxiety attack feels like.