We're selling our condo. So if you know anyone who wants to live inches from bars, steps from Wrigley Field and a stone's throw from Boy's Town (it's exactly what it sounds like it is), please let me know. But more challenging than keeping the house clean and periodically evacuating with a 2 year old, is keeping perspective on the entire situation. My ability to go from casual house hunter to obsessive home luster-after is uncanny. I find myself creating hypothetical hypothetical situations which would cause me to need 6 bedrooms and 7 bathrooms. Poor Denver. I'll tell you what I'm always telling him; I'm working on it. How does all of this fit in with my new zen diet? I think I'm actually channeling the anxiety from the anticipated move into my eating habits. And with that logic, this time next year I might be cozy'd up in a new lazy boy eating a meat-lover's pizza...maybe not.
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