Y- diary, 28 March

So, we have now officially given our "Notice" of marriage. It was a
pleasant if somewhat odd experience. It cost us ?60 and we now have a
year in which to get married. I found it odd in that we were only
allowed into the room one at a time and had to give details about the
other. Nothing as challenging as "Which way does he brush his teeth?"
or "Does he like brown or white bread?" (I'd know the answer to the
second and half of the first I'd reckon), but just questions like
"What's his full name?" and "What's his occupation?" I wonder what
would have happened if our answers had shown some anomalies. R made a
minor slip-up in that he couldn't spell my middle name. He thought it
was Katherine where in fact it is Katharine. That obviously wasn't a
big enough mistake to call off the wedding, although there will be a
note on our file of course.

We now cannot change the venue of the wedding or it will cost another
?60. I don't know how people manage to afford to get married more than
once, I really don't.
I guess we all hope we are doing it just the once. We don't know who
the Registrar will be yet. It could be Margaret's husband, Margaret
being a nice lady I worked with just before Christmas. We'll see. I
don't suppose you're allowed to request a specific Registrar, and I
couldn't remember his surname anyway.

Back at home I've just put a load of washing on and taken a risk
putting a bright turquoise towel and some much lighter items in
together. Last week my new dark red t-shirt turned R's grey socks pinky
purple. He didn't seem to mind too much, but now I could be testing our
relationship if his pale grey t-shirt comes out with a turquoise tint
though. Oh what a dare-devil lifestyle I lead. When I first did a joint
load of our washing I felt all couply taking out my knickers, his
shirts, my bras, his boxers. Sad but true. There's something I like
about putting his underwear neatly in his drawer. I guess I feel like
I'm looking after him, and I know that I'm the only person in the world
apart from him that's allowed to put his pants away. He looks very
sweet in his pants.