Five years ago, I lived in a vibrant, art-loving city, in a tiny studio apartment up on a hill. I drove a beat-up car (which was broken into at least 3 times), and rented an art workspace in a neighborhood known for indie boutiques, aspiring hole-in-the-wall restaurants and a trusty collection of homeless vagrants.
Today, I am comfortably ensconced in Suburbia with its wide sidewalks, ample parking and the usual big-box retail. I drive a compact SUV outfitted with a toddler car-seat, and work out of my home (in my pjs if I choose to). Some days, I actually miss parallel parking on a slope.