The Lyrically induced trade-offs so far:OUT: Black, leather, lace-up, thigh-high boots with four-inch heels
IN: Flat, comfy sensible shoes.
OUT: Tiny, two-seat beater Honda with removable roof.
IN: Four-door, fully warranteed, compact sedan.
OUT: A variety of low-rise, size 2 sexy jeans
IN: The same black stretchy yoga pants every. single. day.
But the biggest sacrifice? Not getting to slap my landlord senseless for suddenly trying to raise our rent by 10%, coincidentally a few weeks after my telling her I'm pregnant.
(Note: I'm not withholding the much-needed bitch-slap for fear the baby will get hurt. It's for fear I won't have anywhere to live that's this reasonably priced in San Francisco when Lyric arrives in a few months.)
Seriously, I'm so pissed I want to go beat that woman with my kick-ass, four-inch heel boots...since I'm not otherwise using them at the moment.
