I have officially become a cliché.
I am a newlywed, and I am happily so.
I know, everyone’s happy their first few months of marriage. But it’s not as if we don’t have a few reasons to be frustrated. Andrew won’t be home until after 8:30 p.m. Again.
Parent-teacher conferences are sucking the life out of him, along with being observed by the vice principal yesterday.
There was a slight chance of snow today, and I found myself wishing for a snow day so I could have my husband to myself for a whole day.
This may not be unusual for most newlyweds, but I didn’t expect it of myself.
We didn’t live together before we got married. We didn’t even live in the same town. I was happily single for the most part before we got married. I know how to fill my time by myself.
But today I find myself unashamed at a new kind of contentment — sparked by nothing in particular — and glad to share my life.