I don’t think I realised just how difficult planning a wedding was going to be. Nothing really prepares you for having to chose from a book with hundreds of napkin designs in it. They’re just napkins, do they really matter? Planning a wedding involves makes hundreds of choices, and none of them are easy.

Thankfully I’m a pretty organised person. Usually, I’m pretty on the ball and can be relied on to get things done on time. I’m also quite methodical, I work through things one step at a time and make logical timelines for myself, so as not to get stressed. All of this would be well and good if everyone else wasn’t constantly messing everything up. I swear, you ask someone to be in a specific place at a specific time, they tell you it’s going to be all fine, and then two weeks out they tell you it’s not going to work anymore. My friends … well, I can handle them flaking out. I expected it, to be honest. But my own father? No. This is not okay.

Recently, dad’s gotten really into hyperbaric oxygen therapy. Melbourne has a couple of different clinics setup that order this treatment, and after he talked to his GP about it, he’s started going pretty regularly. He says it helps with his arthritis, and anything that makes him feel better is fine by me. What is not fine with me is when he turns around, two weeks before my wedding, and tells me he might not be able to make it because he needs to use the portable hyperbaric chambers in the city.

I don’t think I’m the only person who would see red after hearing that. I’m not proud of this, but I pretty much totally lost my cool. But at the same time – how dare he! He’s going to miss out on walking his daughter down the aisle for that? How incredibly unbelievable is that? I didn’t think it was possible for a human being to be that selfish, but wow, dad has really outshone himself this time.