I really wanted to talk about my trip last night, but fatigue and the virus just got the better of me. I really have been having a good time, in between the forced sleeps. I love that pedicures are on the must-do list now for every trip to Colorado, and that my baby is right there with me for them. We both kicked off our shoes last night when we gathered with my in-laws, as much to show off our cute, freshly painted feet as for respecting my sister-in-law's carpeting. It was great to be with all the siblings last night. I feel that some barriers have dropped in the last few years, and we are all more relaxed in each other's company than I remembered from when I first married their much-younger brother. Don't ask me whether those barriers existed on their side or mine, I don't know. I do have a history of feeling awkward in social settings, so I won't try to duck out on my responsibility for this one. No matter what the origin, it seems to be fading into distant memory, and for that, I am grateful. I look forward to these nights now, rather than spin myself into knots wondering what things I will say and do that make me feel like I don't fit in.
I had an idea this morning that I would get up and make food to take with me to watch the Broncos play, but I am still not operating at 100%. I got up and dressed in good time, but I had barely finished my breakfast before I was falling asleep on the couch. For a while, I was aware of my man and my hosts speaking in full volume normal voices, but I could not have participated in the conversation if my life depended on it. I didn't return to earth until noon. No time to cook then; we had to dash to pick up the kids and head to the godmother's house. We wanted to watch the game from her father's house, but with me, the man, and her husband all fighting viruses, we decided to keep our nasty germs away from his vulnerable immune system, and the lot of us sat around her house instead, coughing and taking advils and feeling icky together. I said it was like watching sports in an infirmary. It was the best infirmary ever, but it was obvious that none of us were the young healthy kids we were when we all lived in the same house decades ago.
Tomorrow is going to be an exquisite kind of torture. We are meeting our realtor friend and looking through a handful of houses near where the man interviewed on Friday. So many variables have to fall in the ideal way for us to get a house down there (IF he is selected and IF we can sell our house in New Mexico and IF we can get a place there that we like, and so on...), but I have been watching this one house for over sixty days. I just want to walk through it, even if it sells out from under me before all my Ifs come true. I don't know whether to hope it is too ugly inside for me to want it, or whether I want it to be Smith Park West, waiting for me to come claim it. I just know that I have to see the inside of it, or I will never be at peace. Just a few more hours, and I will know some of its secrets. I can't wait.
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