It was an interesting weekend. Sometimes, when you feel all depressed (I'd been suffering anxiety attacks these past 3 weeks since I switched jobs. Things are getting better.) and the weather's lousy, all you want to do is sit indoors and watch "Anchorman" and be boring. But then sometimes, a butterfly flaps its wings in China that causes a tornado in Cambridge.

That metaphorical butterfly came in the form of house-hunting with my girlfriend of 8 years, Ruth. We'd left on Sunday morning in order to convince ourselves not to buy a particular condo (we've been house-hunting for about 5 months). And we did - but not by the usual means. Instead, we saw another place in Teele Square that was absolutely amazing. And, gods willing, I think that we have a chance of our offer being accepted if something doesn't frak it up.

In the agonizing over how large a financial and personal commitment the house would be, we realized that we'd already been undertaking the same financial and personal commitments for at least the past 5 years since we moved to the Boston area. That we're deeply committed to one another. And that maybe our mothers were right all these years (mothers are allowed to be correct once per decade. If you're reading this mom, that was your turn).

More to follow.