When you're depressed, they say to you 'you've got to think rationally'. But they don't say anything when you're happy. Thank God. I don't think there could be anything more irritating than when you're at your happiest people try and give you advice.
Yesterday I tried on the dress, underwear, veil, shoes and hair pieces all together for the first time and if I do say so myself it looked great. And the thing is, when little things go wrong when you're happy - like driving through a red light, cutting up a cyclist, paying £3.50 to park, not being able to park, you're not bothered. Even Adam Brimmeloe on the Today programme not mentioning the doctors' lobby of parliament didn't faze me. I carried on in my new happy busy state. Nuptial therapy. I might patent it, although St Paul and his incriminating letter to the Corinthians might sue me.
And we've still got so much to do - fake tan, lighter hair, eyebrows plucked, evening invites, speeches, favours, transport, water the plants, pay for the booze, get the shoes, nails, pamper session, look at the michelin guide, book the honeymoon, talk to the relatives. It's all go.