Perhaps it's Rooted in my Biological Clock

I suppose I could say my mood improved. I was quite happy all weekend, even though my golf plans were dashed. The weather was beautiful. Kiwis are perverse. We couldn't golf because the weather "could" have gotten bad, which I found frustrating at first, but with the uncanny sense of accuracy that so many of these antipodeans possess, it started raining right around our proposed tee time. How do they do it?

So, I solved my funk the old fashioned way. Oh, no, not sex. And not chocolate. So maybe not the old fashioned way. I rearranged my furniture. There is some backstory here, perhaps rooted in my biological clock. About 6 months ago, I started to feel rootless, so I looked into buying a house. Housing prices are obscene both in the U.S. and in New Zealand right now, so my hopes were quickly dashed. So I thought about buying furniture - a lovely ottoman, some armchairs, a leather couch combination. But my house isn't really that big, and I don't know where I'll be living next. So I finally minimized my dream, and settled for rolling the piano across the carpet, putting the dining room in the front entryway, and nearly decapitating myself (and my boyfriend) trying to move a giant, painfully heavy china cabinet. The cabinet is still in the middle of the room- I may have to leave it there as a testament to interior design modernism? Anyway, it was all vv therapeutic. I worked up a sweat (burning calories!), and my house looks better, and now I'm inspired to throw a dinner party. So, kids, the moral of the story is, when your dream of spending over $200,000 is dashed, move the couch. It satisifes the nesting urge without a 30-year debt hanging over your head.