Dan’s parents will arrive tomorrow — they’ll be our first guests since we moved here.  We’re all very excited to be able to show them around the fun stuff we’ve found in Vienna, and Benjamin is absolutely thrilled that his “Topes” are coming to see him.  We are very happy that they’re coming.

I’ve been busy over the past week or so preparing to have them visit:  we still have lots of unpacked boxes (which is not going to be completely addressed by the time of their arrival), cleaning the house as best we can (the moutons are putting up a good fight) and rearranging things so that everyone will have a place to sleep that is relatively comfortable.

All enthusiasm aside, I’m a little stressed out.  I think that a minimum of stress is unavoidable in my situation:  I’m dangerously close to the limit of my capabilities every day, so adding the work required to prepare for guests is asking a lot.  (In addition to that, this relationship is not the easiest or most comfortable one that I have, and that raises the stress levels, too.)  I woke up this morning irritable, with my nails chewed and my back aching — and our guests have yet to arrive.

We’ll see how things go.  We are excited to have them visit, and I am doing everything I can to prepare things to be as nice and hospitable as possible while still maintaining my sanity.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can . . .