Tea party chaos

Turns out Scott leaving is working in my favor.  I stayed up until midnight (undistracted) working on tea party decorations--which wouldn't have happened if Scott would have been here.  Evidently I should have been doing this all week as I don't think I will ever get everything done.  My mind's eye will likely turn out to be greater than my capabilities allow.  I'm trying to turn my yard into a tea/garden party this Sunday.  And whoa to the Earth if it rains.  Thankfully everyone is helping with the food, so I'm just making a couple of things that can mostly be made in advance.  I also have a girlfriend coming over an hour early to help, but I'm starting to think I might be crazy (as usual when I plan a party).  A filter would be helpful.  If I could dig up my chain link fence for the weekend and borrow a picket one things would be so much prettier.  Anyone have any suggestions?  I had to check 4 different grocery stores before I found crumpets, pumpernickel bread, and mini-phyllo cups.  WTH.  This is a time when I say, what is wrong with this place.  I guess people just eat hot dogs and at chain restaurants here, so there is not much call for "fine" foods. Seriously, I'm not expecting them to carry jarred black truffles or caviar.  If I had vintage linens it would be better, but sadly I don't.  My mom has all the pretty stuff, but she lives too far away to borrow that kind of stuff in a pinch.  I've been struggling to pull together 16 non-matching tea cups (so everyone could keep track of their cup).  No luck.  I have 4, but then everyone else seems to have matching sets--but not enough people have sets (as in 12 other people).  I've gathered 8 so far, and I have 2 more coming for sure, but that leaves me 6 short (but we have plenty of cups if we repeat patterns).  I feel an ulcer coming on.  I can't believe I am consumed by such obsessive, crazy thoughts.  I'm pretty sure I'm the only person that cares about these details, but I literally obsess over them.  My back yard will either look gorgeous come Sunday, rained out, or like a 1920's washerwoman--hint of my decor).