It started out as a last minute packing frenzy while putting suitcases together for our trip to Oregon. Then I came back and only did a half-hearted job of hanging up clothes and putting away gifts from the bridal shower. Now… my room has become full-blown chaos and I’m too overwhelmed by how much stuff is supposed to fit in a 12×15 room that it’s become difficult to walk around. I’ve even allowed the items on my bedspread to remain on top of me while I sleep.
Must.clean.today.
My roommates Jacob and Phil are great, but they managed to fill the communal space pretty quickly with their furniture, books, and random Goodwill finds. And yes, I live with two guys – something that shocked my Nana (grandma) at first.
“Oh my… you live with two boys?”
“Yes, Nana. They’re really nice.”
“Well… when I was your age the only guy it was acceptable to live with would be your husband. How does Nick feel about you living with two boys?”
“He doesn’t care – they’re really nice.”
“Hmmm… Welllll…. things sure have changed.”
My first thought when I look around my room is that I ought to just give everything away. I’ve done it before – in fact, I’ve never owned more than what could fit in a bedroom for very long. Since graduating from high school in ‘01, every year or so I’d have to downsize into what could fit in a car or a couple of suitcases. It’s odd to think I don’t have to worry about that – I can just accumulate more and more stuff… after all, in May I’ll be moving into a place with Nick and then we’ll be settled and married…. and married people definitely accumulate lots o’ shtuff.
Actually, settling down is a bit unsettling. Living as a couple… alone… in our own place will be a completely new phenomenon. I’m a bit nervous – I don’t want to care as much as I’m already starting to care about kitchen appliances and furniture fabric and wall hangings. They’re distractions.
Despite my own liberal and feminist leanings there is a part of me that romanticizes being a wife – a beaver cleaver superwoman who takes wonderful care of her husband, and later, her children…. all while maintaining a successful career and demanding travel schedule. 
Okay, so I know that life is never predictable… and it’s rarely romantic… it’s full of tough decisions and mostly a lot of blind luck. My 12 year old self probably wouldn’t believe me. I thought that if you considered everything properly and lined all your ducks in a row then things would magically happen the way they were supposed to. But it’s not that easy, and there are too many variables to calculate outcomes. Where will we be living in 5 years? What job will I have? Will we have kids? Will our kids be ‘normal’? Will I have truly helped others, or just improved my own situation?
I think getting married is as scary as it is exciting if a person can get past all the lovey dovey feelings to see just how permanent and life-changing it is. I suppose in the past it didn’t have the implications it has today in a society full of autonomous individuals with a million and one choices and opportunities…
I digress.
What I love about Nick being my partner is that we are both fully aware that we’re flawed but well-meaning people who get to walk through the crazy fog of life together. I have no doubt it’ll be a great adventure.
