As our time in Orlando comes to a close, I'm getting so excited about moving into an actual house. I've loved our studio, but ever since the tiny person joined the party this year, things have gotten pretty cramped. Looking at houses online and imagining having two or three bedrooms (that have doors! I haven't had rooms with doors in two years!) and a fenced-in backyard and a driveway where you can just pull up and walk inside instead of parking in a six story garage and waiting on an elevator sounds incredible to me.
As the possibility of having all of these things comes near, I find myself getting frustrated with our current living situation easier than I normally would. I get irritated by the lack of space, how there's nowhere to take Jack if he's crying and Chris is asleep. I get frustrated by how it's such a process to take Gatsby outside. Irritated with how quickly it looks messy, how a day of cleaning can seemingly be undone by just a few things left out in such a small space.
We actually went to look at houses on Monday, and while it made me all the more thrilled for moving there, it also reminded me of how much I have loved our tiny apartment. I will always, always cherish it and the time we've spent there. I'll never forget when we first moved in, the thrill of living seventeen stories in the sky with an all glass wall. I'll never forget waking up bright and early for the first few weeks of living there, watching the sunrise. I'll always remember laying in bed with Chris, laughing at how much this new place felt like a vacation, and we got to live in it. It was beautiful and breathtaking and stunning and a once-in-a-lifetime kind of apartment.
And it still is. It didn't stop being those things. What happened is that I allowed myself to look at the bad more than I was looking at the good, and like with anything else, whenever that happens, the good seems to shrink dramatically.
So today, I'm reminding myself of how important it is to look at the good. The good is always, always there. And it always deserves to be looked at way more often than the bad does. So I'm enjoying this view for the last few weeks I have it. I'm cherishing the sunrises that shine through the glass wall. I'm soaking in the coziness of the one room we do everything in. It has been so, so good to me, and I will always look back on it with such happiness.
But also: I am really, really excited to have doors again.
