I’m tired. Plum tuckered. Pooped. In fact, I’m so tired I can sit on my couch and stare at the wall for hours and not move. Which is what I did last night. Do you ever get that way? I feel like I gave every last ounce of myself and have absolutely nothing left. Oh, I was happy to do it. Sooo happy. But two weeks of house guests, rehearsing and conducting a youth choir for Sunday’s services, making an Easter dinner for family and roommates and friends, waking up early to take engagement photos, driving 2 hours for a 15-minute dress fitting, racing all day to finish the final shower details, rides to and from the airport, and still working a full-time job in the midst of all that has left me drained of all life. Oh yeah, and don’t forget taxes at the end of all that. I just gots nothin left.

Don’t get me wrong … house guests are lovely. Throwing parties are splendid. Mixing things up can definitely be fun.

But …

I’m really happy to have my house back. I’m glad my schedule is once again in tact. I love that my car is mine. Me and all my little idiosyncrasies (that come from being single for an extended period of time) have been reunited, and it feeeels so goooood.

But …

I’d do it all again if only to witness and celebrate happiness like this: