Input From Friends

This is a call for help. This is a call to arms. It's not really a call to arms; I just said "call for help" and the other thing came to mind. I wish I had more incidents in which to use the phrase "call to arms".... Like Paul Revere. Anyway! I have three days and a fair to not go to. What should I do? You are always so helpful with your suggestions. That's not really true, but I thought I'd give it a whirl.

My dad would always say "the thing of it is" and then he would tell a story of a person named Stanley who used to say this all the time in a very nasally voice; he would then imitate Stanley repeating "the thing of it is" in his best Stanley impression--I've never met Stanley, but every time I have occasion to say "the thing of it is", I say it twice, once normally, once in my head as Stanley. On that note: The thing of it is (Stanley: the thing of it is) I am at a loss, once again. I have been burying myself in little home improvement projects, tidying and doing modest redecorating in every single room of the house. One by one, piece by piece, for months. The most noticeable modifications occurring within the last six weeks or so. However, a friend of mine noticed a house for rent in her neighborhood. She, being oh-so-neighborly, struck up a conversation when the landlord was there one day. He is fixing up the house as a fun little project, and he'd like to rent it to a family; know anyone? My friend thought of us (certainly not because I've been complaining too much about the task of fitting 4 people and 1 twitchy-ass dog into a 900 square foot duplex). He is thinking of asking for $1000 per month for rent (I would have to haggle him down to $800, if at all possible), and, although he's not crazy about dogs, he would talk to me about it. My dog is more of a cat anyway.... This whole exchange got me a-thinkin'; and we all know how that generally ends up. (For those of you that don't, it ends up with me forcing Matthew to do something he doesn't want to do). The thing of it is (the thing of it is) I thought we would be moving closer to 18 months from now. At that point, we would either be moving into a nicer place or getting the hell outta Dodge (aka Coeur d'Alene). It would be cramped and uncomfortable, but it didn't make sense to move now only to maybe have to do it again in a year and a half. Moving blows. BUT then Matthew brought up the fact that he would be starting his Master's program in Fall 2012 and would have to commit to this two-year program. That gives us a minimum of three years. This house will quite literally explode if we try to fit two adults, two 3-4 year olds and one twitchy-ass dog in it for three years. So, let's move NOW, says I! Let's do it; let's get it over with. But, a loud, resounding "Nay" from the other decision-maker stops me in my tracks. Let's wait until next spring.

Those are the arguments. Neither one of us is giving in quite yet, and this leaves me with three days not knowing whether to continue working on the house (be it that we move next month or in 8 months, is it really worth it?) What to do, what to do?

I leave you with this word-picture:
Aurelia loves bananas. She looks like a cartoon-character chipmunk when she eats them.

The End.