i love my home. i love the big ceilings, the pretty wood floors, the 45 natural gas lines that grid out the ceiling, the pool, the gym, the green bricks, the lack of closet doors and the way that people, when seeing it for the first time say "oh, it's so cool*."


so, naturally, i'm moving.

my lease goes up at the end of febraury, and in an effort stave-off the descension of the yearly antsies, i'm sorting clothes, throwing away old makeup, giving away chick lit, and moving.

damn antsies. making me give away jodi piccoult books** and lavender eyeshadow.

this is the first time i've tried this approach: to attach the boredom that hits around month 10 or 11 of a job/life/town. see, i really lovelove the job/life/town situation i'm rocking, but in all honesty, the antsies don't really care. if i ignore them they will start whispering about grad school, and far away friends, and more money for work, and all of a sudden i'll be applying to move to china to work with babies who don't have mommas. or arms. or something***.

so we'll see. i am feeling the same thrill of 'oh! new-ness! i'll probably make friends and have a cute couch and sit on my porch drinking martinis and be 10lbs thinner!'. i think THAT's actually the genesis of the antsies, so if i can feed them without giving up all the OTHER awesomeness of my life (see: job(s), friends, sweet friday nights) then i will have won.

antsies:14 (approximate amount of times i have made drastic life changes for no reason)
leenie: 1.



*"cool" is not something i usually aim for. but in this case, it's a pretty apt description, and is used with such frequency to describe my place that i've come to believe it.
** not really chick lit, but still. ::shudder::
**no offense china babies. you are cute even without arms, and i'm pretty sure there are 72 other 20-something women who feel the same tug as i to come and feed you lunch. cause, you know, that's difficult without arms.