No idea who Zig Ziglar is, but this was too perfect not to post

Sometimes it’s easy to forget among the invitation designing, table arranging and internal debating of how many Janet Jackson songs you can get away with playing at your reception (3?? What if it’s a Michael/Janet duet??) that you’re not just getting a wedding at the end of these 13 months of painstaking planning, you’re getting a marriage.

The former lasts a day, most of which you’re either sitting in a make-up chair or jumping up and down on a dance floor for. The latter lasts a lifetime (god willing), most of which you are neither getting pampered nor dancing drunk. And yet I have spent countless hours selecting hand-written fonts for the vintage mirrors upon which we will write our wedding dinner menus and zero hours determining how we will set up things like, say, our financial future. 

That is until last Friday when R made me interview a potential business manager. 

In fairness, the whole having a business manager thing was my idea. I have major money stress issues because I don’t understand math or how to not buy things I want, so I thought sitting down with a financial planner in advance of becoming a wife (slash 31-year-old woman of any variety) was a smart idea. Did I actually want to sit down with a financial planner? No, of course not. It’s just one of those things I like to say out lout to convince myself that I know how to be a successful adult I’m just choosing to be a fun-loving, carefree 30-something. Unfortunately one of R’s main flaws is that he listens to everything I say and then executes on it.

Which is how we ended up at Joan’s On Third last Friday across from a super kind man named Barry who said super scary things like, “retirement savings plan.” Barry instantly endeared himself to me with a story about dropping his daughter off for college across the country then crying his eyes out to Father of the Bride on the plane ride home, but I’m not sure he didn’t just get my number the minute we sat down and play directly to my mushy father soft spot. These people who understand math can be very sly.

R and I have sat with an event planner to discuss our shared vision for the second most significant party we’ll ever throw (the first obviously being the one to celebrate our Emmy for best comedy, I mean our child’s first birthday). We met with the judge who will marry us to walk through the words he’ll speak that bind us for life. Three days before our breakfast with Barry we attended a Pilates Reformer class, together. But awkwardly making an air circle with your stirrup-strapped legs does not prepare you for conversing about your financial life goals or deciding if you’d like the assistance of a business manager to make them happen. One is wedding prep. The other is marriage prep.

And kid though I do (and I do. breakfast with Barry was a delight, we are united in our thoughts about his services, and going to pilates together was way more stressful), I’m grateful to have a current flash future partner who won’t let me get away with focusing all of my attention on the world’s most complete wedding gift registry and none of it on how we’re going to afford the four bedroom home we’ll need to store the crap.

So Monday: what is a business manager and do we really need it??

And Today: NO MORE BINGE-BUYING WEDDING SHOE OPTIONS!