Should I be Dusting Right Now?

So as I mentioned yesterday, B is at work. Not in the home office. But in The Real Big Boy Office.

Since we've been married, he's always worked from home or in whatever exotic location Frontier Airlines jetted him.

But this job? Minimal travel, and a real office. So for the first time in 9 years, he got all dressed up (no jeans, steel-toed boots, or yellow polos anymore), gave me a kiss, and walked out of the door. 

(It was actually quite a bit more romantic than the alarm going off at 4 a.m. and him wildly rushing to the airport, then texting back and forth all day.)

So I've been going about my normal daily comings and goings, but it just feels different. And I can't figure out why.

Since he's always worked from home, he knows what my day looks like. He gets it when I run around town in my workout clothes, take five hours to complete various stages of laundry, and spend a little too much time rearranging living room accessories instead of actually cleaning. I'm so thankful I don't have to explain how the stay-at-home-mom thing works at this stage in the game.

But I still can't shake the feeling that I should be wearing some sort of June Cleaverish dress with heels and firing up the crock pot right now. Should I set the table? Are we done eating in front of the TV? Is it now my job to make the bed? Should I have the children prepare a short song and program complete with Early American costumes to welcome him back to the homestead?

I will ponder all of these things while I enjoy the internet's finest and eat another chocolate chip cookie. I don't want to strain something thinking so hard.