When my husband and I decided to sell our house and move into an 800-square-foot apartment, I was primarily worried about one thing: murdering him. Don’t get me wrong, we have a great relationship, but the idea of living in such close quarters was somewhat terrifying.
In our house, I had my own office and a separate yoga space, and he used the basement as his art studio. We had a walk-in closet, two bathrooms, a jacuzzi tub, a living room, dining room, back yard, and front porch. Our apartment, on the other hand, is comprised of two tiny bedrooms, closets the size of shoeboxes, and a bathroom that only one person can fit into at a time.
