After thinking about it a bit I realized that maybe I was doing the morning pages wrong. Maybe they're not supposed to be a journal. Maybe you're not supposed to make sense. I don't know. Whatever. It's not for me. Anyway there's not a lot to just pop into your head first thing in the morning besides dreams and concerns of the day.
Everyone in our building moved out this year. We all decided this is the year to move. Even though we had decided it months ago, of course we're the last ones to go. It takes us longer than most to get our act together. Partly this is because Jeff is working so hard lately and I defer to laziness when not pushed by an outside force. There is the realtor* calling me almost every week to see what out progress is (none) and there are friends and family asking what our progress is (none). I bullshit through a wishy-washy answer that I'm sure everyone sees right through. I say we're packing up our storage space (haven't taken anything there in weeks) and we're rearranging the apartment to make it more appealing to potential buyers (outright lie aside from the one time my mom came up two months ago to help us rearrange our living room).
I know I have to take the lead on this since Jeff is too busy to think about it. I come home from work exhausted and I don't want to pack anything up so I eat leftovers and sit in front of the tv while idly looking at Facebook on my phone instead of packing anything up. And then I berate myself for that.
Our upstairs neighbors moved to the west side of town on Friday. I went to their place on Monday to pick up boxes they has used. They had unpacked them all. Let me repeat: ALL the boxes were unpacked. How is this humanly possible?! Anyway their place is a huuuge 3 bedroom enabling each of them to have a cave of their own. This business of men needing a man cave is ridiculous. Women need them just as much if not more.
I was all set to be horrified with where they had chosen to live but it's actually pretty nice. The apartment is beautiful (and huge and relatively cheap) and the building has Art Deco character and it's a 10-minute walk to the train. There's not a lot around them, though, even though they said they have a great grocery store.
It doesn't matter anyway. Jeff would never agree to live outside of downtown. And he's right. We love where we live. Why would we want to move to the less nice side of town when we love how much downtown has grown into such a great community?
(*Why does my computer want me to capitalize Realtor? That's weird, right?)
Everyone in our building moved out this year. We all decided this is the year to move. Even though we had decided it months ago, of course we're the last ones to go. It takes us longer than most to get our act together. Partly this is because Jeff is working so hard lately and I defer to laziness when not pushed by an outside force. There is the realtor* calling me almost every week to see what out progress is (none) and there are friends and family asking what our progress is (none). I bullshit through a wishy-washy answer that I'm sure everyone sees right through. I say we're packing up our storage space (haven't taken anything there in weeks) and we're rearranging the apartment to make it more appealing to potential buyers (outright lie aside from the one time my mom came up two months ago to help us rearrange our living room).
I know I have to take the lead on this since Jeff is too busy to think about it. I come home from work exhausted and I don't want to pack anything up so I eat leftovers and sit in front of the tv while idly looking at Facebook on my phone instead of packing anything up. And then I berate myself for that.
Our upstairs neighbors moved to the west side of town on Friday. I went to their place on Monday to pick up boxes they has used. They had unpacked them all. Let me repeat: ALL the boxes were unpacked. How is this humanly possible?! Anyway their place is a huuuge 3 bedroom enabling each of them to have a cave of their own. This business of men needing a man cave is ridiculous. Women need them just as much if not more.
I was all set to be horrified with where they had chosen to live but it's actually pretty nice. The apartment is beautiful (and huge and relatively cheap) and the building has Art Deco character and it's a 10-minute walk to the train. There's not a lot around them, though, even though they said they have a great grocery store.
It doesn't matter anyway. Jeff would never agree to live outside of downtown. And he's right. We love where we live. Why would we want to move to the less nice side of town when we love how much downtown has grown into such a great community?
(*Why does my computer want me to capitalize Realtor? That's weird, right?)
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