I am 23. I have a Bachelors Degree in English. I have a year of experience working in the business world (which is horrible and I don’t recommend it). I have two years of coaching experience at the High School level. I rent a condo that doesn’t look or smell like 350 dirty college sophomores have lived in it in the past. I have a giant dog who needs more space than an 800 sq. ft., second floor walk-up. I have one year until I am finished with my licensure program. What in the hell does all this mean? It means it’s time to move. Or at least start planning to move.

While I love Iowa City and have completely enjoyed my 5 years here studying and working, it’s time to go. So my boyfriend and I have been making lists. Lists of potential places to move next Spring. Lists of small towns, suburbs and cities (although I will tell you right now, those are only there to appease him). We have lists of the areas with the best schools, those with high employment rates, those with great locations. We have my lists of towns in Wisconsin and his list of towns in Iowa. We have one big list with the word “Dubuque” at the top and stars all around it (I suppose that’s the only one we agree on so far). I love writing lists. Grocery lists, movie lists, shopping lists, chore lists. But let me tell you, I am so over our moving list!!! 

We can’t seem to get past picking the town. If we could just do that maybe we could move on to neighborhoods and potential locations for Grant’s gym. But sadly, town names are all I have been writing lately. All my persuasive writing skills have recently gone into creating picturesque living scenarios for my boyfriend so as to convince him the towns I like best are the towns he likes best. I’ll scribble down the name of a town I thought of that day and write a couple key sentences on what it has to offer. I feel like a real estate broker. Perhaps I’ll sell Grant on one of these towns eventually. But until then… I will be writing lists on lists on lists until my hand falls off or we simply move in with his parents…