So I've been helping our friends, L. & V., organize their wedding. Specifically, I was picked to be the food committee coordinator. Sheesh. As many of my friends know, I do love food, but mostly cooking and eating it. Coordinating a team of 6 people to order, pay for, pickup, deliver and otherwise manage food for a wedding of over 100 people is not something I am particularly expert at, or (I now know) that I particularly like.
But L. & V. are like family, so H. and I are doing a whole bunch to make their special day beautiful and blessed. It's a lot more work (and stress) than I anticipated it would be, but I'm hoping that it'll all melt away today under the sunshine by the ocean, and that whatever little crises and problems arise--I've fantasized about everything from the trays of Ethiopian food being catered for the dinner flipping over and splashing all over the floor to the cake just not showing up--I'll just let slide off my well-clothed back.
It's 9:55am and we are running a bit behind--H. underestimated how long it would take him to pack up his gear and get outta here--but I'm fairly calm and relaxed. I've done everything I was supposed to do--made all the calls, arranged for the pickups, and bought the coffee and tea goods--so I'm good to go. Now comes the hard part: letting go of my (significant!) control issues (hey, I'm a Capricorn, okay?) and let the Universe (and the rest of my food committee) take care of everything else.
Phew...I'm breathin', folks, I'm breathin'. This is not easy for me.
First Day of San Francisco Refugee Food Festival
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