Wedding Night, ha!

Wedding night? Spence thinks he's having a bad wedding night?

Let me tell you about wedding nights! Well, actually, I'd better not. He wouldn't thank me for it. And I still have to get along with him for another week.

But he needn't think this is easy for me, either. And if Anne had to keep us up until 2:00 a.m. to get it right, I for one didn't care. It's not as if anyone else was vying for my attention, sweeping me off my feet, throwing me down on the bed and making mad passionate love to me . . .

So I might as well have helped Anne.

And I hope stupid stubborn Spence helped her a little bit, too, instead of just complaining all night, because she is, after all, trying to get us to a happy ending.

I can hear him now, muttering, "Fat chance!" Well, I pretty much agree. Things are going to have to change before there's any possibility. And while I've been an optimist for my entire life, I think any sort of optimism is unfounded now. Things are going to go from bad to worse.

But at least it's only a week. I just need to get through the next week.

And, don't tell anyone, but there is a tiny tiny part of me that is continuing to hope. I can't help it. I've hoped for too many years. It's like a birth defect. But I'd stay up well past 2 a.m. if I thought I could make it happen.

Not that I expect any help from you-know-who. (And I'm not talking about Anne).