Good Man’s family leaves Korea in one hour.
“OK,” Good Man said, “computers.”
No wonder this man doesn’t understand how stressed I am. He thinks that the most important thing to bring to the wedding site is our laptops. Wonderful.
Went out today and bought drinks for the reception and wedding ceremony itself. Five bottles of Korean raspberry wine, four bottles of a dry champagne, two bottles of non-alcoholic catawba wine, 30 bags of Korean barley tea, 30 bags of Korean green tea, and 15 bags of jujube tea (Korean, of course), three twelve-packs of soda, one and a half pounds of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee (with a jar of creamer and the command to bring sugar with us). Water will be served, of course, and we have access to Mark’s Lover’s huge supply of “hey, I brought this bottle of X to this party” closet.
All of the announcements are addressed and stamped.
A pile of stuff is growing near the door.
When Good Man’s parents get here, I’m avoiding any more wedding crap until Friday.
“I told you I was busy with wedding planning and [Good Man]’s family, Sabumnim.”
Special Forces said, “OK, you come tomorrow.”
“Sabumnim. I am so stressed out I almost cried in the Safeway parking lot today. I wanted to cry over creamer and sugar. I will come after [Good Man’s] family is gone, OK?”
He laughed. “OK. I will see you Saturday.”
We hung up and I turned to Good Man. “Why is he bugging me? I told him I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to come to class. Give me the real answer, not the Korean one.”
Good Man tapped his chin. “Hmmm… Well, he does not want to lose a customer.”
“He isn’t the one who makes money off of me.”
“Maybe he cares about your well-being.”