So, Jill and I really love our apartment. We really, really do. Most of the features are kind of a double-edged sword. Pros and cons in a package deal. For example.
1. The Kitchen: our kitchen is so lovely and small. Cooking a meal with Jillian is like an elaborate dance. In fact, we have choreography practices twice a week. Hopefully, that will prevent me from dumping tomato sauce all over her or accidentally stabbing her with a kitchen knife.
2. The Walls: the walls are delightfully thin. This way, if there is a national emergency we'll be able to hear the sirens before anyone else. Or, if Publisher's Clearing House tromps up our stairs, we can greet them smilingly at the door. It also means that when our neighbor sings made-up jazz songs, we get a front row seat.
3. The Trains: our apartment is nestled right next to what must be the last 18th century iron horse track in the nation. The companies who own this track have quaintly decided to eschew modern forms of transportation for the nostalgic Americana that is the locomotive. We love to hear the sound of centuries-old progress as we lie in our beds at four in the morning.
Like I said, we really do love our apartment. There's one feature, though, that came completely sans-cons: our balcony. Surrounded by trees, furnished with a perfect table and two chairs, and facing directly west, our balcony is ice-cold lemonade, lightning bugs, and luxury.
Or it will be as soon as this gol-danged cold snap passes. But I digress...