With less than four hours of sleep and two cups of black coffee, I was surprised I managed to sit through all of the pre-wedding preparations.
Gladys, our wedding coordinator, flitted around me like her life depended on this wedding more than mine. Even as the makeup team eased me into a chair, she was still firing instructions at me nonstop, clipboard in one hand and headset in the other.
Fantastic. I could feel a headache pulling up a chair.
Across the room, two stylists argued over which veil best complemented my gown while another hovered by the steamer, muttering anxiously about a wrinkle no one but God Himself would ever notice. But if there was anything uncanny about all of them? It was that they were trying so hard to maintain their composure.
I glanced around using the mirror
