Please, don't come in.

I've always liked the idea of "having company over." The idea of sharing your home with someone sends warm ripples of comfort up my spine, but when the time comes to actually have company over I turn into a nervous wreck. I worry about forgetting manners or common courtesies. What are the rules for having guests over? Do I allow their cups to empty? Should I always have some nibbles prepared just-in-case? Did I properly clean the lint trap? People will see all my household flaws!

Well, I suppose those are the thoughts that would be racing through my mind if we decided to even let people in the house.

In college it was understood that your place of habitat would not be clean. College kids don't have time to clean. You have people over and they just "got it." So I never worried much about having dirty dishes in the sink, wiping up all the loose cat fur strewn around the place, or picking up various art supplies that littered the floor. It was expected.

Now I'm out of the college phase (in theory) and we're in a house. Something we can call our own and are proud to show off. Except we simply haven't settled in. It still looks like the day we moved in. . . boxes everywhere, half-heartedly sorted piles of random stuff, things searching for homes. I think we're both in shock about actually setting up a permanent place. That and the fact we have no furniture to speak of. So we're forced to say things like "We're just not ready for company" or "Sorry, you're not allowed in. Hope you don't mind freezing on our front porch!"

One day I'll be able to invite people over and not be ashamed of the mess. One day our neighbors will unexpectedly show up and we can open the door wide, welcoming them in. One day we won't be ashamed of our maze of unopened boxes and things will have places. One day we'll turn this house into a home. But for now, if you feel like popping by, don't expect a warm place to stay; we'll just send you to the nearest hotel with a bag of cookies and an awkward apology.