One of the under-discussed advantages of living in New York is that you can exist in an arrested cocoon of your 20-something punkself for as long as you can get away with it. You can artfully avoid those irksome mortgage and car payments, for example, by renting perpetually and taking mass transit. And if something breaks, dude, it just ain't your hassle.
You also don't really have to plan anything. Want to see a show? Show up and scalp your way in. Want to go somewhere? Ten taxis just drove by. Want cash? ATMs on every corner. Want to get something? Just about anything you could want is in three different stores within two feet of your door, at all hours. And that's if you're unlazy enough not to have it delivered.
It can be the perfectly hedonistic, On-Demand lifestyle, if you play it right. Hang loose, have fun, and flit your grasshoppery life away while the ants in the suburbs pay off their 30-year fixeds and muck their gutters.
Well, I can't get away with it anymore. The metaphorical muck has found me.
I'm not saying I haven't been acting like a grownup since the family came along. Two weeks after I got married I took a full-time, suit-and-tie job. With a cubicle, morning meetings, a dumb boss who told dumb jokes, the whole nine. And since then almost all of the age-appropriate stuff I've done has involved saving for the future (IRAs, 401k's, 529s), staying out of debt, and avoiding as many foreign entanglements as possible.
But the entanglements, they come a-tangling.
We're a two-house household now, and my life is about to be monitored a lot more carefully for a while. By my lawyer with a big desk, and my other lawyer with a bigger desk, and my accountant, and my broker, and my insurance guy, and my other other lawyer whose desk is fucking magnificent. I'm also forming a business and looking down the road at Itemized Tax Deductions, and even though I sort of retched when I typed that, this all feels like progress. And growth. And the best way to make this family more functional in two apartments than it ever was in one.
If those apartments ever become houses, I'm ready for it. But I am paying someone to clean my gutters out, because that shit is nasty.