Getting the brass tacks from the fertility doc yesterday...my gods, it opened my eyes.
I want a house. I want more room and a place to sink my hands into the soil. I want a yard. I want to live further north, but I'm willing to continue to compromise, if it gets us closer to having a child.
What I do not want, is to start a family, have a child, in that apartment.
That means continuing to put the creation of said child on the back burner. It means saving to move and getting the hell out of our apartment. It means finding work where we want to live, and then finding other means of payment beyond that. I know freelancers don't make dick in this economy, so for me, it means selling my book. Editing it first and then sending it out.
It means learning to save. Stopping all frivolous spending. Downsizing our lives. Working our asses off.
I'm ready.
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