Id's Cage

The Saga Continues

The fiancee has what I call a creativity-based, emotional response to stress. I'm not saying it's a bad thing at all, I mean, she eventually comes to some enlightened decisions. It's just the Mr. Toad's Wild Ride through the depths of complete and utter pandemonium that I can't handle.

Well, and sometimes I unknowingly set it off, but that's neither here nor there. I had a little nooner with the boss yesterday, whose son recently tied the knot. So naturally, the wedding thing comes up, and we chit-chat back and forth. She's very engaging, my boss. A sense of humor that smarts like a bullwhip.

Anyways, I come home yesterday and start talking about all the fresh wedding ideas I have. A somewhat unusual situation, since I tend to let her run the wedding plans; but not unheard of. So we talk about a few things, blahblahblah, and everything's fine. Then, at like 10:30pm,
the surface starts to crack, and she begins her decent into madness.

She clams up. There's the vacant stare, the somewhat disassociated demeanor, and the expressionless face. I guess I'm kind of afraid that maybe I know it's already started, this stress management of hers, so I drop a depth charge.
"Hey, everything okay. You look a little stressed, what can I do for ya?"
"Eh. Nothin'."
"Okay."

Then the sniffling starts.

"Babe, really, talk to me. You wouldn't want me to just lay there and do this, you'd want to help. What's up?"
"Really," her voice is quivering now as she talks in between sniffles, "I don't think it's anything you can help me with."
"Okay, but if you want to talk or vent, just do it." This usually does the trick, and in true form, it works.
"WE'VE ONLY GOT SIX MONTHS LEFT AND WEDON'TEVENHAVETHECAKECUTTINGSONGPICKEDOUTYET!"
"Ho, hey. We've got a dress, food, a place t-"
"Yeah, but there's a millionotherthingstodobetweennowandthe-"
"It's okay. I swear, we've got plenty of time to iron things out; we've got plenty of people to help us. I'd say we're 80% complete at this point."
It is here that the litany reaches full pitch. She begins to lament everything from her shitty groom (hey, right here dear, hi, me), to our busy schedules, to the wedding party - everything is on the table now. Ah, the sound of hysterics at full volume. But see, this is where she releases the tension. I don't let it bother me because she only does it about the wedding and it seems to help her gain clarity.

Eventually, we get all calmed down, and we're talking and laughing. I turn and say "You know, you gave blood today. Maybe you're body's just exhausted from the drain." She gives blood often, and has been known to suffer side effects. "Yeah. Oh, that and the only pills left for this month are the placebo's." I grown and roll back over, at least we found the root cause.

She's fucking crazy. Help me.

Please?