I've worked a sting of night shifts this week with some overtime thrown in for good measure and the end result is that I can't sleep. The other results are a mostly messy house, no fresh food in our fridge, and a dog has spent much of the week sleeping next to me and not enough time on adventures spending energy.
Today after I woke up I remembered that Christopher had a friend over last night. Before I could let myself be embarrassed by the pile of mail mixed with dried flower petals taking over the dining room table or the remnants of our trip to MN last weekend still in the hallway I told myself that our friend is kind and wouldn't judge me based on the general disarray of my household. Then I walked into the bathroom and saw my under-things on the floor not at all hidden by my pajamas. I told Chris that I wished I hadn't left my bra and underwear on the floor for Nathan to see and that even though he's seen women's things before, he hasn't seen mine. Chris replied "now he has." Yes, yes he has.
We went to a gala tonight. Christopher is giving a couple of lectures at an Episcopal church in association with an Icon exhibit. I had never been to a gala before so we got dressed up, picked up our friend and milled around a beautiful, old Episcopal church looking at some contemporary and traditional icons. In my imagination, the gala was a front for a spy who comes into the event dressed as wait staff and then, in the elevator, takes off his top layer to reveal a tuxedo and breaks into a super secret, highly guarded vault to steal a device that could destroy the world from the bad guys. Isn't that what you think of when you hear the word "gala"?
After a few weeks of debate about our housing situation, we decided to stay put in our little rental for a while longer (hopefully the duration of our time in Milwaukee). We briefly looked at some houses to buy and realized that owning our own home will likely have to wait a few more years. And I added some criterion onto my previously blank list for our dream house to include: hardwood floors, a claw foot tub, an open staircase and a yard big enough for a nice garden and a chicken coup. Pretty much I want an old farm house. Do you think I can be a farm wife if my husband is a theologian/professor? Oh, and I'll add some kids running around barefoot and in overalls, please and thank you.
Speaking of kids ... (if you are still reading - and don't already know - you deserve this) ... we are going to be expanding our little family in the fall. Little Brenna (also known as "Amoeba" around here) will be joining us in October! More on that later ... =)
