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I've had the darndest time falling asleep - and staying asleep - the past two nights.

Today is 102 days from Our Wedding Day, 8 days from our closing day on our new home, and 11 days from our moving day and our couples' shower with friends here in Chicago.

In 25 days I have my first dress fitting. I'm supposed to be svelte by then...

In 30 days we leave for Mexico to celebrate our dear friends' destination wedding. Before we go, I have six depositions to cover. Immediately after we return, I have two more.

In 40 days, The Fiancé and I will be in Boston for our nephew's ("The Godchild's") christening. Five days later, Bailee has surgery scheduled for a minor [but terribly disgusting] growth on her back that needs to be removed and biopsied. And her breath stinks, so she's getting her teeth cleaned too.

In 52 days, we head to Indianapolis for our food-tasting for the wedding reception and plan to stop by City Hall to get our marriage license. The next day, my sister will throw a luncheon shower for my Indy girlfriends and I'll hopefully do a trial run of my hair and make-up [if I find a hair-stylist by then...] Some time that weekend, we need to chat with our priest about the ceremony...

In 59 days, my dear girlfriends will descend on Chicago for a fun-filled bachelorette weekend... Seven days later, I head to Indianapolis for my friend Abbie's bachelorette (her wedding takes place 3 weeks after ours!). Six days after that, The Fiancé and I head back to Boston with my parents, sister, and brother-in-law for the full-family-meeting and our final wedding shower. Somewhere in there, I go to trial for my asylum client... no small task, and decidedly more weighty than any of the events above. I sometimes can't sleep at all thinking of that case.

And in 104 days, The Fiancé and I will climb onto a plane bound for Belize. We will be married. And I maybe, just maybe, will finally fall asleep absent visions of count-downs and to-do lists that have plagued my sleep the past two nights. Maybe. Just maybe.