So last night I left my wedding in search of a toilet, having half an ale in a pub as I went. I warned the barman I only had £2 on me as the rest of my belongings were in a locker (?).

As part of the same dream my uncle was serving up pudding and was giving people such gigantic portions that all I thought was "Oh dear, there won't be enough."

What larks! The wedding is now hurtling towards us as the speed of light but I really am trying to embrace it, apart from grimacing at the words "Grease Megamix" every time I look at the living room door where we've created a giant Post-It note-y collage of all the music we're playing in the evening and Ollie slyly asking me every so often "Are you SURE you prefer Sugar to Moves Like Jagger?" in the hope I'll choose the latter and it'll look like it was my idea.

If he asks me again I'm going to add three more Katy Perry tracks whilst he's not looking.

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