I'm married, I live all the way across the country from my parents and have for 8 years, but it's this step that's starting to make me feel a bit like an adult. I think it would more so if we didn't need to ask our parents for help with our down payment, but it's New York, and we are not rich.
I'm almost afraid to write about our hunt here. There is a place that we've found. We've fallen in love with it on paper, poring over the photos from the Times. Over the weekend we snuck into the building; so easy when delivery men are being buzzed in right in front of you. We just wanted to take a quick look around, have a few quiet minutes to explore nooks and hallways and staircases without the looming presence of a real estate agent. On Friday we see the actual apartment. I am a little terrified of either outcome; a little worried about the sadness of finding that we don't like it as much in person and shaking slightly at the idea of loving it, signing a piece of paper that indebts us further and the idea that I may have to face the fact that I am a grown-up after all.
Wish us luck.