I’m going to move out of my parent’s house in approximately two years.
I’m leaving with the love of my life. We’ll live in an apartment relatively close to our respective city-jobs, and we’ll share a car. I can drive sometimes, he’ll drive other days. I’m sure public transportation will be a daily routine. Hopefully, I won’t concede to moving out of NYC and into the radioactive slums of Jerz… but, I suppose, it is more logical to live in NJ whilst paying off grandiose tuition debt and saving for my wanderlust affliction.
We’re going to get a Belgian Malinois puppy, called Havok. He’s going to have a little smushy black face and floppy ears. He’ll need a LOT of training. But we’ll both be therapists, so conditioning is right up our alleys.
I’m going to work in a cochlear implants center, where I won’t have to choose an age population. I can assist in habilitating or rehabilitating my favorite human sensation.
We’ll exhaustedly shop at Trader Joe’s at night, and wake up for jogs with Havok at the ass crack of dawn. I’ll clean, and he will cook – by preference! He’s going to make the most amazing chef. He already has fantastic creativity within kitchen boundaries.
I can’t wait.