I still remember my worst wedding nightmare. It was shortly after Obama’s 2008 election, and I dreamed that it was my wedding day, and he was there. Thus far, this doesn’t have the markings of a nightmare, does it? Well. Obama had showed up to my wedding, and at the same moment I realized we didn’t have a seating chart. Not only did we not have a seating chart, but we’d never even figured out how many tables we needed to fit our guests and if they would fit in the space. They didn’t fit into the space. “Please, just get something set up, and put him in front,” I remember pleading, “I know he’s not the president yet, but he’s very important.”
We somehow got tables arranged badly, and the tablecloths were floral. I still get a knot in my stomach when I remember the dream.
Wedding dreams come in as many forms as you cam imagine. Except you don’t imagine until you start having them, because wedding planning is fun, right? Then the dreams start and you didn’t buy a dress, or you’re not sure you should be getting married in the first place, or your partner cheated on you, or the confetti push pops all explode, or the doves turn into monsters (and why are there doves at the wedding anyway?). And then you jolt upright in a cold sweat yelling, “But we have to do a seating chart, NOW!” and wondering what the hell your subconscious is trying to work out, exactly.
A few weeks ago, some readers requested a wedding nightmares open thread, on the basis that it would be amusing to swap tales. After spending some time vividly remembering my wedding nightmares, I’m not totally convinced there is anything amusing about it, but I do think we all probably want to get the stories out.
Let’s share. (And to hell with it, pregnancy nightmare tales also accepted. That’s the only other time they get quite so strange.)
