This debate over where I will move next is keeping me up at night. I think most days, I'm dreaming of my next shoebox apartment, walking down four flights to go to my gourmet cheese shop (or perhaps lugging a load of laundry to the cleaners). Then occasionally I think about the beach, Mica and Ari, future mini HP's, having a bedroom that's not in my kitchen...
And then tonight I thought: what about Washington, D.C.? Not Arlington, where I grew up, but Washington proper. Where I could walk to the metro (and not own a car), maybe work for some agency that's aiding a good human cause. Maybe I'm just a natural born east coaster.
If we could just find a faster way to get to Mars, maybe I wouldn't be so confused. No, because then I'll be weighing Earth or Mars... Mars or Earth. Forget it. Why do I have to choose?
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