The real estate agency is holding another open house here today. Robert and I are going to escape somewhere private where we won’t have to deal with the hordes of people who will tramp through here. Some of them will be seriously interested in finding a house. Others, unfortunately, are just curious to see what the inside of our house looks like. Some of our neighbors attended the last open house. Weird. I’d feel a bit funny doing that to them. Oh well, soon, we’ll be moved into our own home, free from realtors and prying eyes.

I think I’ve reached the end of my reserves. I’m just plain worn out. Worn out from a stressful week at work. Worn out from being pregnant. Worn out from prospective buyers dropping by our house at odd hours. Worn out from keeping the house clean. Worn out from entertaining guests for the past couple of days. I declare today to be a day of rest. I’m going to do nothing…absolutely nothing. And it will be wonderful.

I was not in the mood to go to my monthly book club meeting. I was tired from work and wanted nothing more than to go home and rest. But I went anyway. I always go. And it always turns out more entertaining than I expect it to be. Our discussions of the book are rather short when compared to our discussions about life, the universe and everything. They’re not as thought-provoking or serious as they could be. Frankly, the idea of trying to make the conversations more weighty makes me nervous. It’s hard being an ex-English teacher. I don’t want to be resented for turning what’s primarily a social occasion into a seminar. So, I’m always really careful about the questions I ask. They’re not as carefully thought out as they could be. I make them seem careless and somewhat superficial. Someone provides a one sentence answer and the conversation quickly ends. Then, we revert back to discussions of careers, husbands, boyfriends, vacations…and we enjoy those. It’s wonderful to chat with other women…to laugh…to sympathize…to cheer one another on. I guess I’m willing to be “false” with them because it allows me to be “honest” with them. What a paradox. I enjoy their companionship…thrive upon it…but it’s hard feeling satisified with such shallow discussions about literature. I miss the intellectual seriousness that prevailed in my college classes.