The other day I was putting dishes away when I was struck by the thought that in six months, I'll be putting dishes away my own apartment. It seems like it's more "mine" if I'm only sharing it with Jim. I'll come in and close the door and say hello to Jim, if he made it home before me (home!). I'll ask him about his day and tell him about mine, which will have been spent teaching/chasing after small children because yes, I am doing Teach For America.
The process isn't going to be easy. There are three scary tests I need to take this month and another in March. I still have to finish this thesis. Then there will be five sweaty weeks in Philadelphia, where I'll actually teach, make lesson plans, and try to figure out small people's minds. I'll be moving around - I hate packing and moving. But then after all of this I'll have a job, a life and an apartment with Jim. Even knowing that it won't all be skittles and rainbows only dampens my excitement a little bit.