The best thing about condo living in a hip area is all the awesome food spots to eat at.
The worst thing about condo living in a hip area is the desire to eat all said food at said awesome food spots which instantly reflect themselves upon ones own hips.
The best thing about condo-living is how fast it takes to clean up this tiny place. A simple clean? 30 minutes. A sparkle floor-to-ceiling scrub down? One hour. Maybe.
The worst thing about condo-living is how fast it takes to messy up this tiny place. One teddy bear here, one stray sock there and we’re quickly mimicking a hoarders episode.
The best thing about condo-living is how you never really feel alone. Like hearing about how angry our next door neighbor was at her mom because, well, she never listens to her. And Bob? His door swung wide open by a gust of wind as I walked past and he invited us in to meet his little girl Lulu who told us she’s quite fabulous at hula-hooping and can scooter like the best of them. Maybe its because I’m a writer and have read way too many Alexandar McCall Smith books on the joys of joint-dwelling but there’s a particular charm to living in close proximity of others and the availability of a diverse group of muses. Not something I want to do forever but helpful for writing ideas just the same and while I don’t need to know why Becky doesn’t appreciate how Ben didn’t take out the trash, it’s an interesting opportunity to play amateur-anthropologist.
As cool as that is, its slightly uncool to know as much as you can peek into the lives of others, they can peek into yours though mine is little more scintillating than a mother chasing a toddler through various rooms for the better part of a day. Except when we pretend with stuffed jungle animals. And sadly pretending to be elephants and giraffes dancing at a tea party are not typically the silent endeavors I’d like them to be.
House-hunting is going full steam and the debate over space versus location ever-present and ever-confounding [as our parents shake their head in puzzlement at cottages under consideration when palaces could be bought just over yonder to which I say, losing minutes of my life on commutes in congested traffic to said yonder is minutes too many tiny house or not]. Though its a ‘buyers market’ potential sellers, fully aware of this, are generally not putting their good stuff up. Sifting through a lot of mediocre inventory and trying not to get discouraged. Eventually we’ll find a house. Or send Waleed off to college from this here condo. Either way, roof over head, bed to sleep on, table to eat on. That there sentence contained more blessings than I can count so I’ll keep the complaints on the woes of house-hunting to a minimum. I have a home in all the ways that truly matter.