On Deciding to Move

I wish there were a list of where people made big decisions. We were sitting in the schlotsky's parking lot, not your typical spot for coming to a life altering decision. It was a regular weekday meal, meaning quite a bit of food was eaten and just as much time was spent bitching about work. My wife's requested transfer to the London office had been turned down and between visions of pissing on her senior managers grave we somehow managed to come out with a list of the world's cities we imagined cool enough for us to live in. This is what you do when living in Dallas and not a fraternity alum: you sit back and imagine all the places you would rather live than there. Zurich and London and Munich and Vienna and a host of other European jewels were ticked off until either my wife or I giddly proclaimed "I've always secretly wanted to live in New York." I don't think anything could have stopped us after that and in a way it was kind of natural for the younger generation to dream of bigger and better things and to place ourselves in Manhattan while doing them. After that fateful evening pounding back gigantic sandwhiches we were entranced by the possibilities, spending our hours on craigslist and city forums plotting the move. I don't regret it yet, although I could go for a big ass sandwhich about now.