I have been married now for one week and one day:
Saturday we got married. (More on that later.)
Sunday we explored Gualala and watched 30 Rock. (It's our couple hobby.)
Monday we drove California Highway 1 and opened wedding presents. (Not at the same time.)
Tuesday I got sick and spent the day on the couch moaning to myself about a headache and a backache and a runny nose and, of course, that pesky cough. (Two months and counting.)
Wednesday was business as usual. (What is usual?)
Thursday I flew to Utah. (Ain't nothin' like Provo in the fall.)
Friday I gave a paper at a conference. (So the school would pay for me to hang out with my old professors and Annie and Alea and Chrish and ke.)
Saturday I took the LSAT and flew back home. (All the cool dropouts go to law school, right?)
Sunday we went to church in our brand new married-folk ward. (Babies everywhere!)
***
"How's married life?" everyone asks me. (Hey, it's conversation.)
Well? I have no idea. I did a double-take this morning at church when someone asked me about my husband, I can't stop staring in wonder and confusion at the ring on my finger, and I probably spent more time this week without Mike than with him. But we had some nice phone conversations while I was in Utah, and when I got back he was waiting to pick me up. Is that what married life means? Not having to take public transportation home from the airport? I can learn to live with that.
