Goin' courtin'

Allan and I spent the vast majority of our courtship at the Harold B. Lee Library. No exaggeration. When you start dating in January--the very beginning of your busiest semester ever--you're not spending a lot of time playing frisbee golf or checking out fifty-cent Tuesday at Movies 8. I wrote my senior thesis that semester. And scored the highest grade in my class, thankyouverymuch. Allan took what seemed like eight German/Austrian/Russian/Transylvanian history classes with a couple of religion classes thrown in for extra torture. I even picked out a ring, dress, photographer, and named our first four children by the time finals week rolled in. We were productive.

During the three years of law school, Allan mentioned on a few occasions how much easier it would have been for him if I had a reason to be at the library with him until midnight every night. For obvious reasons--the initials being JAB--that was not possible. But guess what? Allan is studying for the biggest test of his entire life thus far. And we have live-in babysitters. I have a lot of actual real work to do that requires quietude and an internet connection.

Let the courting commence.

After putting our Beloved Offspring to bed this evening, I drove three miles down the mountain, met Allan for a sack dinner, and then walked to the library--laptop and my mom's latest manuscript in tow.

There was no need for discussion--Allan and I walked straight up to our old spot on the fifth floor--and even ran into an old college friend on the way. It looks exactly the same. I wasn't prepared for the magnitude of nostalgia that I felt. The nostalgia actually caught my throat.

It's just like five years ago. Except my stress level has significantly decreased. And Allan's has significantly increased.

Oh, and Allan doesn't have to borrow his parents' Suburban anymore.