A French afternoon

Sooo, I’ve been engaged for five months. We’re three-four months from our “ideal” wedding date, and we have (drum rolls).......NOTHING.
I thought the deal would be closed last week, and that we had a venue. Finally. But no. It didn’t happen. Then I thought it would definitely happen today – as P went over there to discuss the details of the contract. But no. It didn’t happen. As a matter of fact, it seems farther away than ever. The options I had taken on other venues are expired by now.
Instead of bursting out in tears on the metro while talking to P on the phone, I decided to do the only reasonable thing: eat and drink. So I went to the deli, bought five different French cheeses, a freshly baked baguette, and a small bottle of wine. By now, I’ve eaten and drunken most of it – and the heat on my terrace is making sure that the alcohol is doing its job. Even to the degree that I write about it on my blog.
Anyway, I’ve got different options at this moment (besides getting drunk and overdosed on French cheese)
a) I can cry my eyes out, convinced that my dream is never going to happen
b) I can get mad at P for never taking decisions, and always waiting until it’s (almost) too late
c) I can say “Fuck it”, and drink some more
Right now, all the votes (right and left hand) are in favour of option C.
Cheers!