For two years I have lived in an apartment the size of a milk carton. One bedroom. One bathroom. One boyfriend. One dog. The three of us were next to each other most of the time. Passing through the kitchen while the boyfriend made dinner involved ducking under the open freezer door, a wide step over the dishwasher's door, another hop over the 12.6 lbs. cockapoo, and then a side step around that cockapoo's crate. You get the picture.
Over the weekend, one boyfriend, one dog, and one LinzFactory moved into a tasteful little historic house near the City's downtown. Built in 1919, it is quite quaint. More importantly, it has three stories the same size as the one bedroom one bathroom apartment. There's not much else to say except it is SO MUCH BETTER.
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