I’ll be the one in the cocktail dress having a panic attack.
Posted by woodenmonkey
Every year we throw a party. A formal party. Cocktail attire. Wine. Canapes. Witty guests. Charming hosts. The husband wears a tux. I’ve got a cocktail hat. With feathers. And a dress with sequins.
This is the twenty second year.
This is the first year I won’t be walking. Which also means I won’t be cooking. Or cleaning. Or moving furniture. Or lighting candles. Or, well, anything helpful.
And? This isn’t a nice little party for an intimate group of our closest friends. Currently we have 53 people attending. And sixty people who haven’t rsvp’ed yet. I’m now thrilled when someone sends their regrets.
Also? We don’t have a large house. Three bedrooms, one bathroom. Small backyard.
So moving around on the wheelchair? I’m not sure how that is going to work.
My brain hurts.
Though I do have a lovely dress.
About woodenmonkeyJust your average solar powered, hybrid driving, organic eating, happily married, pro-choice, feminist Christian artist and writer from San Francisco.
Posted on October 26, 2011, in Retro post (which is another way of saying I forgot to post it when I wrote it). Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.