A lot of people—basically all the people—are asking me, now that our condo will be on the market this week,
"Where are you moving?"
That is a perfectly appropriate question. You'd imagine we'd have a quick answer. I'd love it if we knew, really.
In reality, we have narrowed down our options to three areas. We have investigated them, done home searches (or are doing home searches), and have contacted friends in each area. Since Mike can live anywhere for his job—thank you, fantastic distributed company—we are focusing our location investigation on my job prospects. We are figuring it out.
If you want to know why determining big things, like where to put down roots, are so daunting for our little family of three, here's an everyday example that just happened—I'm typing this with my wet hair wrapped in a towel.
The scene:
Me: Taking a shower, on a Saturday, mid-day, oh the luxury
The hubby and kiddo: Making lunch.
Kiddo: (Yelling) Mom! Mom! Can we (indistinguishable garble)...salad?
Me: WHAT?
Kiddo: (Yelling) MOM!!
Me: (Stepping out of shower, concerned): What is going on?
Hubby: (Outside door) Forget it, can I just come into the bathroom to talk to you?
Me: Yes, what is going on??
Hubby: (Stepping inside, letting all the steamy, warm air out) Can we open the new box of salad?
Me: (Freezing) WHAT?!?
Hubby: We have a half-opened container of spinach leaves, so can we open the new box of salad greens, or can we only have the spinach that is open?
Me: What do you want to eat?
Hubby: Salad greens.
Me: Open the salad greens. Why are you asking me this? Was this a necessary crisis to have me called out of the shower?
Hubby smiles, shuts door, leaves.
I've joked with my husband many times that his last name is actually French for, "let's think this through just a little longer," while my maiden name in Italian is, "let's get going already."
I promise we'll figure out where we are living very, very soon. We are almost there. It is painfully slow for me, so no need to ask. It feels like lightning speed to the hubs, who suggested just this morning that "we really should do more research." That's the beauty of selling the house, though: we must move, so we will.
In the meantime, spinach and lettuce are open and available for lunch here at our house. Stop on by!
You need a sign on the bathroom door like I have ;-), banning anyone from interrupting the person inside UNLESS YOU ARE ON FIRE.
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't work, mind you, but at least it justifies my rage when the rule is violated.
Genius.
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