I live by milestones. Dates. Seasons. I constantly find myself saying, “This time last year I was… (insert random, usually insignificant activity here).”
So of course yesterday – Labor Day – I was amused by the fact that a year ago to the day, Dave and I were aimlessly wandering down Main Street in Lake Placid, stretching out the last few remaining hours of our vacation before the long drive back to Boston, when on a whim, we walked into a real estate office.
And the wheels started spinning for real.
That evening, before heading back to the city, we drove around looking at potential properties.
And I very clearly remember our excited conversation on the drive home, going over every imaginable scenario.
And then two weeks later we were back looking at houses.
And then two weeks after that, oh holy crap, we made an offer.
And then, ohmygodwhatthehellarewedoing, we sold our house.
And that was that.
Labor Day will always be one of those special dates for me. In so many ways, it’s when it all began.