Ahem

A month or two ago Matthew and I started talking about whether or not we should stay in our current apartment or move to a different one, seeing that our contract will be up the middle of August. Matthew's opinion was hey I like our apartment well enough, and moving is a hassle, so I am 100% fine staying here, but if you want to move I'll be ok with that too.

I have a little different of an opinion. Not that I haven't liked our apartment or our ward, but I have this "the grass is always greener on the other side" perspective on housing, except for me, the grass usually is greener on the other side. I have to admit, I like change. When I was younger and living at home, I used to switch my room around all the time: move the furniture, rearrange, you know the whole nine yards. Every so often my brothers and I would even switch rooms (until I got the big bedroom with the adjoining bathroom in the basement...back off brothers its mine! :) ) I like change in my surroundings or something I guess. For me, there was nothing particularly special about our apartment that kept me wanting to live there, I wanted a change of scenery and I felt like we could probably find someplace better that also cost less money. Well we did find someplace better that cost less money and today we signed a contract for the place. (It's not far away, only about 6 blocks from where we are living now. At BYU that means we'll jump across the boundaries of about 15 wards. :) )

However now that we actually are going to move, I forget about how I like change, and my dad's genes (read: nostalgia) kick in. I have such fond memories of things we've done in our apartment. This is our first apartment, where we lived together right after we got married. This is where we came home to after a long day at school and work. This is where we watched countless movies and played countless games. I've cleaned it so many times! How can we leave?!?!?!

*Sigh* What's a change-embracing nostalgic girl to do?