So we thought New Jersey would be our last stop in the search for home—you know, that place that just feels right, that place where you cannot imagine being anywhere else. Well, it wasn’t. In fact, three years ago this weekend, A., M., Pumpkin, Moo, and I moved from the sleepy town in Jersey to Manhattan.
Our first apartment had a kitchen that was minuscule and had roaches and mice (Rodents wig me out) but on paper it sounded awesome: a duplex with two bedrooms, two bathrooms and outdoor space. We lived there for two years until we moved to our current apartment in a doorman building, (Our broker was excited to finally find an “adult” apartment for us.) which we adore.
So, on our third anniversary of being New Yorkers I feel lucky to live in a place where I feel I should have been my entire life