A sign that we should move...

We've been debating for months about whether to move. Scott's commute is lengthy and will only get longer and crazier when he starts med school this fall. After looking at the price of rent in the town where we really want to live, we're leaning toward sticking it out where we're at for another year. We get a really good deal on rent (for around here, anyway) and Bruce is already enrolled at preschool for next year.

But every once in awhile, I get the urge to move: when someone gets stabbed on our front stairs, when I hear a broomstick pounding from below, when shady dudes hang around the dumpster, when I witness two guys having a fistfight in broad daylight, when my car gets hit in the parking lot, when we have people over and they have to park far away, or when they park in the lot anyway and get nasty notes on their cars. I got that urge to move again this week - see sign above.

Okay, so I can see noise being a problem from Bruce's running. Hardwood floors don't hide noise well. But a crack in the ceiling?! From a 30-pound kid? It's not my fault this place is built out of cardboard. Perhaps it wouldn't crack if he hadn't bashed his ceiling with a broomstick...