Went to four open houses this weekend — one in my neighborhood and three in Park Slope.  It is somewhat appalling what a tiny amount of space seems to be the norm for my price range.  One apartment had an amazing roof deck that completely dwarfed the apartment itself.  The nicest apartment of the day was small as well, but in excellent shape.  After leaving I called to confirm the one oddity that I noticed — there was only one closet in the whole place.  The largest apartment I saw was in such disrepair that I would have had to spend plenty just to get it liveable, not to mention that the entire building seemed a little crooked, like it was leaning downhill on one side.  By the time I got home, my apartment felt absolutely palatial.  I’ll be packing in the apartment-viewing over the weeks to come.

Well, not sure it’s time to change quite yet, but we shall soon see.  After 7 years of living in my current apartment as a renter, I have just received the news that the building management company wants to sell the unit.  This could mean one of several things.  First, that I buy it from them, second, that I buy something else in the neighborhood (where I have lived for 13 years), or finally, that I buy something in another neighborhood (most likely Brooklyn).  I’m in the process of assessing my finances and getting a sense of the real estate market, but this whole thing is freaking me out quite a bit.  On one hand, the concept of moving to Brooklyn is overwhelming, not to mention buying an apartment here, there or anywhere (when did I become a grownup?!?).  On the other hand, change might be exactly what I need to shake things up a bit. 

That said, the Apartment Therapy project is somewhat on hold for now, with the exception of continuing to clean out my crap, buying myself flowers, and entertaining people now and again. 

The other major change that I’m not sure I’m ready for?  Giving up my fantabulous home phone number (which I’m not sharing here, but it is very catchy).  I don’t think they’ll let me take it to Brooklyn.  Will keep you all posted . . .

That I still had trouble hauling myself out of bed when I went to bed before 11?!?  I’m going to chalk it up to the dreary day . . .

I’ve been a bit cranky since I returned from Umbria (settling back into real life ain’t fun).  My mood took a turn for the better this morning when I put on a pair of pants I haven’t worn since last fall to find that, despite stuffing my face with pasta and cured meats and washing it down with wine all last week, they were pleasantly loose — far more so than they were at this time last year.  Guess all that time at the gym is doing something after all!

Heading to the office early to finish prep for my 9:30 Pro Bono Committee meeting (followed immediately by yet another meeting).  Seriously — I am no good at this hour.  Plus, I’m still reeling from the amazing dinner I had last night with the Epicurious folks at Del Posto.  I’m hoping a little extra coffee will help me make it through the day and safely back home tonight to get to laundry and packing.

Courtesy of the genius that is the Onion:

Tuesday’s arrival stunned a nation still recovering from the nightmarish slog that was Monday, leaving some to wonder if the week was ever going to end, and others to ask what was taking Saturday so goddamn long.

"Ugh," said Wagner, echoing a national sense of frustration over it not even being Wednesday at the very least.

According to suddenly depressed sources, the feeling that this week may in fact last forever was further compounded by the thought of all the work left to be done tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and, if Americans make it that far, possibly even Friday, for Christ’s sake.

Fears that the week could actually be going backwards were also expressed.

Got my first taste of fall yesterday with a hike in Harriman State Park with Lauren, Frank, Caroline and Tara — the colors of the foliage gave me a little home decor inspiration.  The rest of the weekend involved an excellent dinner Friday night at foodie, and recovery and Italy-related errands on Saturday.  After returning from the hike, I attacked a few more closets in preparation for the Salvation Army pickup tomorrow — I’ve got three boxes of shoes and purses and five large garbage bags full of clothing to ship off.  Slow and steady . . .

I came home last night after a loooong day (training, meetings, no breakfast, conference call, two events) to find several packages waiting for me.  One was a promotional poster for Alice Waters’ new book, The Art of Simple Food (interesting timing, as Alice was mentioned quite a bit at last night’s Julia lecture).  Not only is the poster emblazoned with directives that speak to the way I try to eat and cook generally, like "shop at farmers’ markets," "Eal locally and sustainably," "Cook together," and, my favorite, "Eat together," but it matches my new decorating scheme.  Between that, a large sized print of a picture of the Little Red Lighthouse that I took, and a print of another picture of an old bicycle from the beach house, I seem to be amassing a collection of art that highlights the colors I’m looking for.