Pre-Italy Freak Out

So do you remember that time I went to Vegas with Bill, and completely freaked out before the trip because it was the most time we'd ever spent alone together and I was certain he would come back hating me, because I drool in my sleep and spill food when I eat, and experiencing that one night a week is one thing, but for 3 straight days is probably too much?

Well, it's happening again. 

As of today there are only 10 more sleeps until Italy, and I'm starting to lose my shit a little when I think about it. 

So much so in fact that I've put off doing literally ALL THE THINGS I need to do before we leave and now I'm running out of time. 

I need to find a formal dress because the one I ordered online STILL HASN'T COME.

I need to get a new suitcase because the handle on mine broke YEARS AGO and I've just been putting it off because it never mattered, until. now.

I need to get a couple different things clothes wise, figure out what I'm bringing and make a schedule of when the kids will be where and with who while I'm gone for like 10 whole days.

All of that on top of the fact that Bill and I will be alone together for 10 WHOLE DAYS is a recipe for a spastic colon and an overdose on Rescue Remedy.

I'm trying to stay calm and remember that I loved him more after we came back from Vegas, and that trip is still one of our best shared memories, so I'm sure a romantic 10 days together in Italy will be even better. 

If Vegas doesn't ruin your relationship, it should certainly be able to survive the most romantic country in the world. 

Yes, even more romantic than France. 

Suck it France.

Really my biggest fears are all stupid shit that I only fool myself into thinking Bill hasn't already been exposed to.

Things like "what if I snore really loud in my sleep and he just can't take it anymore after 5 straight days, and he jumps off the side of the ship?" -Just for the record, I NEVER SNORE - Duh. But if I did, I don't want him to be bothered by it.

And what if my boob falls out of my pretty formal dress at the nice formal dinner where some of his career field colleagues and one of his business partners will be, and forever after I will be remembered as the girl who's boob was all over the place at that one dinner on that cruise in Italy, and Bill is just so embarrassed he dumps me and marries someone who looks like a president's wife?

There are just so many unknowns.

In the end I know it's all going to be meaningless when I wake up for the first time in Rome, next to my boyfriend and we order breakfast wine and chocolate and spend the rest of the days teasing each other about our mutual inability to speak any language other than highly sarcastic English.

It's going to be fine....right?