One Week Down

I just finished up my first week at work. I think it’s going well and that I made the right choice. It’s weird to adjust from a magazine to a web world. Everyone is FAR less glamorous, even at the Chelsea Markets. Which, while less interesting, is also kind of a relief. I could not keep up with the print glossy Joneses, but I think I can hang here.

At home this weekend we’ve chalked up open house number four. Nine families came through and had lots of positive things to say. It’s been the same thing every week. People think the apartment is beautiful. They think it’s an excellent price. Sometimes someone gets all excited and calls friends or family to have them come look. But no offers so far. I continue to maintain that you’re not going to find a nicer two-bedroom in Manhattan for this price.

We bugged out today to accommodate that open house and I was treated to my son’s first public tantrum. It was brief but impressive. In his defense, he was many hours late for a nap at this point. Instead of snoozing in his crib he was sitting with me in a crowded cafe while strangers poke through our drawers. When it was time to go he felt that standing in his stroller seat would give him the best shot at snagging goodies off other tables as we went. When I vetoed that by tugging on the knees of his pants until he fell on his butt in the seat his reaction was immediate, immense and hilarious. Remember Al Pacino at the end of Godfather III when Sophia Coppola gets shot? That.

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