Don’t you hate it when after endlessly planning, then moving heaven and earth to get what you want more than anything, you come to within a millimeter of your goal . . . and then time stops.

Welcome to my world.

The past few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster of colossal proportions. The origin of every hill and loop is not necessarily in the secret I am about to reveal, but in that context, they are made all the more perilous. The truth is, I am wiped out. Wiped. Out. If one more person wants one more thing from me, I am simply going to evaporate into the atmosphere. “Where did David go?” someone will say. “He evaporated into the atmosphere,” someone else will say. “Can I have his computer?” the first person will say.

Luckily, a good thing has happened. This is what has lately been going on behind the scenes:

Rob and I are buying a house. It is in Baltimore, in a neighborhood called Bolton Hill. It also happens to be the most beautiful house ever. We put a bid in last week, it was verbally accepted, and we got the signed contract back today. If all goes well with the inspections, we close on 16 April and will probably move by the end of that month.

Whew.

This may seem to be a outlandish turn of events given that most of Rob’s work requires him to be in Manhattan, but he has to be here only on certain days. It is also true that, despite my initial indifference to this city, I have fallen madly in love with New York and would hate to leave it for good.

And thus we have Step Two:

Rob and I are also looking for a small apartment in Manhattan. Rob will commute up for a day or two weekly, and I will join him every two or three weeks. We are going to bi-locate. The Metroliner will be our home away from home, as well as our home away from home away from home, and it will all be very glamorous.

Now, if you will pardon me, I need to take a moment for a little affirmation: Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong . . . .