There are plenty of semi-interesting things I could be writing about, like my 28th birthday or our 1st wedding anniversary, both of which culminated in a fantastic weekend in NYC; or Easter weekend at my parent's house. But productivity is just not happening, mostly because my mind is bogged down with absolute frustration/borderline hatred for our realtor. I'd feel much better if the pins and needles we have been sitting on for the last six weeks as a result of squatting at my sister's house, commuting 6 hours a day, and making absolutely no progress on moving forward with life in general, were transferable to him. Oh, if only...!
If anyone needs advice on finding a place in Boston, I can certainly tell you where NOT to go.