I'm going to use that as the excuse for every single thing that I fuck up in the next six months. "Sorry for running over your toddler, Mrs. Anderson - I just got married." It's totally fair, too. Something about planning a wedding and then actually going through with the wedding...well, it messes with your sense of equilibrium. ESPECIALLY if you go on a honeymoon right away. I've been sans reality for, like, three weeks which results in me giving the big double fuck you fingers to the Universe and all that is considered "normal". Including showering.
|Gray & Mrs. Gray, just after he made an honest woman of me.|
|And the cops weren't even called. THAT'S HOW FUCKING MAGICAL IT WAS.|
So now we're home and we're back to the daily grind of work, eating cheese puffs by the fist-fulls, searching for homes to buy, going to BlogHer, fighting over who gets to masturbate while the other walks the dog, selling our used crap on Craig's List...
I think our normal may be a little different than yours.