Ah, wedding season. The time of year where everyone you know has become a wedding planner and knows the ins and outs of every single wedding. And as the wedding invites pour in, you think to yourself, “Yes! Free booze and a dance party that doesn't require you to pay an entrance fee!”

So as time passes by, you start to plan your outfit for the big day because, if you're being honest with yourself, this is your time to shine. And maybe find that person that will finally give your overbearing mother some grandchildren. Pushing that rough thought aside (because you're still in college; you're not that old), planning the perfect outfit will probably take you forever; and you're a cheapskate.

So you search and search and search, though not especially hard because clothes still cost money, and you finally find the perfect outfit. You decide that this outfit will just be for weddings, but then you get calls for job interviews and you wear the outfit repeatedly because you just look so damn good.

As the wedding draws nearer, you realize that you have no idea what to get the couple for a wedding present. You start to contemplate the origins of wedding presents and if it really stems from dowries and if you’re inadvertently supporting sexist values. So you think harder about what gift they should get, then you’re thinking you don’t really know what they would like.

“Do people in their 20s like watches?”

You Google different wedding gift ideas, and most sites tell you as long as it’s about $200 the item is irrelevant. Then you question how much you want to go to this wedding, because now your booze and dance party are $200 plus a bomb-ass outfit. Pushing that horrible thought aside, you think about just giving a card. Cards are nice and money doesn’t take much thought on your part.

The eve of the wedding has finally come, and you’re very excited to see how everything looks. And you’re not really doing anything tonight (even though it’s Friday), so you drive over to the venue to see if you can snoop on what it looks like. Once you get there, you feel like a total creep and drive off having not seen any color schemes or decorations at all. So after that horrible defeat, you get into your bed and sleep, hoping to prepare your body for the day-long festivities tomorrow. Pre-gaming is a thing for weddings, right?

Wedding day! The day you’ve waited for is finally here! And of course, because you were pre-gaming so hard last night, you woke up about two hours later than you should have. So you get up, shower, blow dry your hair, pull off a super cute up-do and go the natural-but-totally-noticeable route on your make-up. After hours of slaving away to make your coal-like body look like a diamond, you go to pull out the wedding outfit, and it’s missing. That’s odd, you think, as you search the rest of your closet, your dressers, your dirty laundry hampers and the stack of unidentified clothes that happens to reside in the trunk of your car, and it’s nowhere to be found.

Starting to panic a little, you put your PJs back on and speed over to the mall. You run to the store you got the wedding outfit from and try to find the same exact one. They have it, but it’s one size too small, and you decide you’re willing to commit to a skin-tight outfit today. You shove yourself into the outfit, rip the price tag off and throw money at the cashier and run out the door. You race to your car and speed away, and you’re only 20 minutes late for the wedding.

You start to plan excuses as to why you’re going to be 40 minutes late. But then you think that you can get away with standing in the back. No one will be able to tell the difference if you’re just standing in the back. Then you realize it’s an outdoor wedding, so they’ll probably notice since there aren’t any walls. So back to the drawing board you go, and you think maybe car troubles are the way to go. You start to google pictures of flat tires on the same model car you have hoping to find one that is believable.

Then, as you pull up to the ceremony, you abandon that idea and just pray that no one asks you. So you run out of the car, purse flapping along behind you, run up to the usher and grab a program. You begin to read, and then look at the bride and groom. Those aren’t John and Amy. You look at the program and see the names “Martha and Peter” scrawled across the front and the date on the bottom and realize the wedding you’re meant to attend is next weekend.