Hi! I’m Amy, a 26-year-old designer who lives by the motto “Work to live, don’t live to work.” I live with my 31-year-old aerospace engineer of a fiance, Rocket Man, in Arizona. (Hence rocketwife, har!) We’re gettin’ hitched in October. Can anybody please tell me why wedding planning is so stressful?
Originally from Indiana, I’ve been in Arizona for close to four years working at a newspaper in town. I was recently laid off with 11 other folks because nobody reads the newspaper anymore. Plus, I pooped in my editors office. I’m currently on a “spiritual journey of enlightenment” to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. I think most people would call it “too lazy to put on pants and find a job.” I’m teetering between freelancing full time and getting another consistently paying job.
Rocket Man and I have three dogs: a boxer, a mutt and a pug. It’s probably two dogs too many, but I’m to blame for that. I’m a sucker for cute things. I love trashy reality television, a good bottle of chardonnay, fancy paper and strawberries. I hate pretentious people and insurance payments. I’m sarcastic to a fault and use way, way, way, too many, commas. It’s a disease.
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