I admire these women enormously. These are the women who should be organising hen parties. Not me.
I find it impossible to concentrate on more than one thing at once as it is - even on a good day I end up putting the bread in the fridge. Sometimes I forget I'm holding things and I drop them. I frequently check the time when I've got a full drink in my hand. I'm an idiot.
I am coming into the last few days of organisation for my best friend's hen party, and I have hardly any hair left to pull out. As soon as I start thinking about what I need to do for the weekend, my brain holds up its hands and cries "I surrender!" and hides under a blanket.
It won't tell me anything I need to do apart from pack the glitter. And a penis mug.
That's not the worst part though. The worst part is that people are crap. You don't realise how crap people are until you try to organise a hen. There are literally four out of eighteen girls who have been any use at getting back to me about anything. Everyone else has required ten more chasing emails of increasingly forced politeness and a visit from a hired killer before they even tell me they're coming. Then when they do reply they're all snivelling apologies and you feel like an evil boarding school headmistress who's trying to take all the fun out of life with all the emailing and the organisation. You've never met these girls, and you already want to throttle them.
People who have no problem with being bossy - they should organise hen parties. Not me.
I call on you now ladies, if you have any hen mails loitering in that inbox that need replying to - do the right thing and get back to them. That poor girl may be somebody who puts the bread in the fridge too.
She really wants to like you. You're not helping.