I cannot make a decision for the life of me. I have the people around me make them.
example: My college advisor picked all my courses. I'm so glad she is no longer employed for the University; she sucked and maybe that is why it has taken me a million years! (I'm hoping this new one has her shit together)
When it comes to going out for dinner I always answer... "I don't know" or "I don't care" even a possible "Just pick somewhere and I'm sure I'll find something"
My hair? HaHa! I let my beautiful hair chic do whatever she wants once I sit in her chair. Sometimes I'll have an idea but most of the time she has free reign. There is an advantage to this: change; bring it on baby!!
Grocery shopping: lil man helps pick out food choices.
Now here's my issue and it's big!! Well... to me.
I rent this cute little tiny house. And I mean tiny. Well because lets face it; our economy is going to shit my rent has gone up a whoppin' $130 smackers. That's a big chunk for this single college chic mom of a boy who is growing faster than a speeding bullet!
And we've been slapped in the face with the harsh reality of yep... a recession.
Oh the joys.
So here I am trying to weigh the pros and cons of moving into... wait for it... an apartment! *gasp*
I'm having a real hard time with this. I've lived in this house for going on 6 years. Lil man and I moved in here when he was 18 months old to start over; alone but together. Just us as a team. We had just enough to get by. A bed, a crib, clothes, dishes and minimal food. It was rough but dammit we made it.
Now this house is so full we are running out of room. He's bigger, his toys are bigger, even his clothes don't fit in his closet so I can close the door... blah blah... it's irritating. I scream when I can't fit things into cupboards or how about the day when I had to move his dresser into my bedroom because he needed a desk to do his homework and there wasn't enough space in there; I cried! Yep! I don't even have the space in my room for my own clothes which I own-- like 3 pairs of jeans and a small amount of shirts. Boy child comes first. Always. Its maddening.
Now I have a potential of moving into an apartment but it's just that.. an apartment. You know there is always a stigma attached to the word "apartment". Oh how I hate closed minded shallow people.
So here is my list...
House vs. Apartment
no up/downstairs vs. up/downstairs
basement vs. no basement
garage vs. no garage
washer/dryer vs. washer/dryer on site, not in apartment
shower only vs. shower/tub (lil man has never lived in a home with a tub- ever)
big yard vs. shared yard with kids
no neighborhood kids vs. neighborhood kids
in town vs. in town
6 kitchen cupboards vs. way more than 6
world could blow up and I wouldn't hear it vs. I'd have neighbors up my ass
I don't have to clean snow off my car in the mornings vs. I would have to
being lazy vs. I need the exercise
no space vs. more spacious
have cats vs. no cats
lil man's cat is his best friend vs. childhood depression if he lost his best friend
have a cat that pukes CONSTANTLY; she's sick vs. never have to clean cat vomit again
cat hair vs. no more cat hair
litter box vs. no litter box
house on small side street vs. apartment in a housing "park" on busy street
lotta money vs. saving some cash
all utilities paid vs. paying electric but other "things" are adjusted
no counter space vs. counter space (I'm a big cook/baker. Cookies go on a cooling rack on the WASHER)
washer/dryer are in my kitchen vs. see above
life sucking house vs. to be determined (to be explained another time)
Ok... I'm going to stop right there. As you can see I'm torn. Spinning in circles.
Saying I live on X Street sounds better than Y Street Apt Million though.
Ohh, I'm being shallow.
Dear Decisions: how I loathe you!
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