Reply Card Misery

Today I am wading through a stack of reply cards. I let them pile up a bit before I record them in my dysfunctional spreadsheet. The reply date is a week away and I’ve received oh, maybe two dozen replies in all. Out of 100+ invites sent. I’ve concluded that sending out wedding invitations is an exercise in humility and frustration.



The warm glow of the engagement has long worn off by the time you and your fiancé sit down to draft page after page of invitees. After a wrangle with everyone concerned, you have a list of many names and not many addresses. Weeks or months later, after numerous arguments about the practice of nagging, you have an actual assemblage of names and addresses neatly printed on piles and piles of expensive, hand-made (by you) invitations to be sent out at great expense.



You have committed to a significant number of guests at the banquet hall. All that’s left is to dutifully record the replies…that you now find are trickling in at an alarmingly slow rate.

I have reached this point. I now realize that the sun does not rise and fall on my bridal tiara, contrary to what I’ve been conned into believing as a bride. If I hear “but you are the bride! It’s YOUR day!” one more time by someone trying to sell something ridiculous and unnecessary to me, I could scream.

The only plus side to the whole wedding fiasco is, if you’re lucky like I am, you’ve picked out a half-decent groom you get to go home with at the end of it all.