For the past several days, plus weeks and the entire year prior, Bossy has been facing major decisions.
The biggest decision currently on the table is whether Bossy should move from her happy apartment in a small town neighborhood to a shabby very expensive loft in the dangerous city:
And when Bossy says she is trying to make a decision whether or not to move, she means she has already signed a lease on the new loft and her current apartment has been rented!
Bossy hates change as much as finding out Target changed the packaging of their holiday lights. Bossy hates change as much as learning that Ikea’s drinking glasses are now a wholly unusable size. Bossy hates change as much as knowing Google changed the font size for their search engine.
So naturally, Bossy is experiencing a bit of anxiety surrounding her impending move. But Bossy calms herself with the understanding her anxiety is only due to the unknowns surrounding a new beginning.
Bossy came to the idea of moving to the city after hours of consulting with her brilliant stable of friends, coworkers, and family. And after hours of quiet soul searching. And after wine, a lot of wine.
The process looked like this:
But Bossy is beginning to warm to her decision, where warm equals Is it warm in here because a person could faint!
What say you, Bossy’s esteemed council? Any words of wisdom?