I've been reading the reaction to Alice's dilemma with interest, since the Almost Four of us are in a similar situation. My wife and I decided to stay in Manhattan as long as it was monetarily and emotionally practical, but there's no circumventing the simple truth that you can't get far in this city unless you're single and/or rich. I've always lived by the axiom that life is a shit sandwich; the more bread you have, the less shit you taste. And New York is a mouthful, with a side of au jus dippin' sauce.
I just renewed our lease for a 15th year in this apartment, and I can't help but think that this will be it. But then I think of one of my favorite colleagues at work, who raised 8 kids in a three-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side, and I am emboldened.
I'll be posting a lot about this in the coming weeks, but now my shoulders are a little sore from the weight of all these impending life decisions. So we're clearing out of town for a little perspective. And space.
