I love being married.

Tomorrow we will set out for a week’s vacation in Kansas City as soon as I play a wedding and have a job interview. (Pray!)

Sometimes I get so physically exhausted that I become completely emotionally incapable of handling anything. I felt that happening yesterday as I finished a meeting with another bride. I’d had about four hours of good sleep the night before and had already been physically exhausted from a week of arthritis symptoms. I sensed that I was just too tired for my own good when I started internally panicking about everything: job applications (fifteen of them), interviews, not to mention jobs themselves, weddings, meals to cook, laundry to do, a husband to spend time with. I realized that I have not yet spent so much as an hour this summer alone, lying in the sun with a book, a frequent pastime of my summers for most of the last decade. My emotionally irrational self thought “Ugh! I’ll never have another chance to just do nothing. This is why people don’t get married.” That’s a pretty radical thought for me; I knew it was my sleep deprivation talking, so instead of freaking out, pouting, or crying, this time I did the sensible thing: I went home, put the already-made dinner in the oven, drank a big glass of ice water, and fell asleep on Mike as he sat reading theology. Twenty minutes later I was up, cheerful, getting dinner on the table, and excited to spend the evening celebrating Mike’s 21st birthday. All I’d needed was a little nap and I was seeing straight again.

Now as I look back on the last 24 hours I can’t help thinking that being married to your best friend beats singleness hands down. There’s no way to feel the kind of joy alone you can feel together–joy even brought about by things as simple as washing dishes and doing laundry together; quietly, simply, systematically working towards a common goal: getting on I-35 tomorrow and heading south with house clean, bags packed, and lots of fun planned. I love the simplicity of working shoulder to shoulder like we’ve gotten so good at doing. And I love the simplicity of being in each other’s company, like last night when we went to share Mike’s first drink in a (U.S.) bar. 😉 We sat at the counter and talked and laughed a little, but mostly we just said nothing, and it didn’t feel quiet at all.

Happy Birthday, Dearest of Dears. Here’s to dozens of future birthdays, hundreds of future drinks, thousands of future chores, and hopefully a quiet moment or two together. And here’s to an epic week in Kansas City. I like being the girl hanging on your arm when you hang out with your people.

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