It's Not You, It's Me

Dear The B,

It’s been a good year together and all, but unfortunately I think from now on we’re just going to have to call it quits. I’m sure you’ll understand. I know you had some great things going for you – lots of cabinet space, a fireplace, 2 ½ bathrooms, a washer and dryer in the cupboard under the stairs just like Harry Potter, a parking spot for each of us, a curtained-off storage area we called Oz, a nifty brick wall still exposed from where you were built on the back of another house, and five spectacular housemates*.

But let’s be real, there are some things you might need to work on. For starters, you have no foundation. Sure, that meant kittens could live under you, but it just doesn’t bode well for the future. The kitchen sink, which you have tug to the left to turn off completely – what’s up with that?  And perhaps you could have been a little roomier and more soundproof, so we couldn’t all hear each other while each sitting on our own beds in our own rooms. We froze in the winter (until the repairmen came and turned a knob on the heating vent) and burned in the summer (until the repairmen came and…fixed the a/c). And then you went and burst a pipe right above my closet while I was out of the country. Was that really necessary, B?

I do love your quirks, but there comes a point when you have to decide which quirks you actually want to build a future with. So, The B, I think you can probably understand why I’m upgrading to something a little bigger and better. But I really hope we can still be friends.

Regretfully,

Caroline

P.S. Hellloooo, La Bamba

*four of whom, plus me, are pictured above. Liz had already gone to sleep.