Cost of living

On the way home from datenight on Saturday, The Man and I were discussing our lives (it was a short conversation, we were only 15 minutes from home). What we came round to -- something we often do -- is how much living in Vancouver with a family really does suck. Trying to find balance in living in Vancouver really does suck. The cost of living is so high that unless you are making a killing, you have to work a LOT just to stay afloat. We live in a tiny place that we love but it really is too small. We both have jobs that pay well, but we still dread unforeseen expenses because we often have to run debt to pay for them. We are really well off by many, many standards, but we are still feeling like we are running hard just to keep up. 

And it's a hard thing to take once one realizes that for the same cost as we paid for the place we live in here, we could buy a very nice house in most other cities in Canada. We could also buy a smaller house, and I could afford to freelance for a living, work less, spend more time with my child and any possible additional child that we might have. It's an attractive prospect. Less stress for all of us, as we divide household responsibilities. Less time rushing about. More space. 

Horrible weather. 

This is the problem. I grew up in Victoria, and I can't stand cold weather. Or terribly hot weather. Basically the temperature needs to be between 10 and 25 for me to be even remotely comfortable. Preferably 24, with no breeze. And this is a circumstance not found anywhere in Canada, but is best approximated in Vancouver or Victoria. Edmonton? Is not the place to find a temperate climate. 

So how do we balance it? I hate feeling trapped in my career and job, hate working hard in a job that I no longer really love, to stay afloat. And I'm starting to wonder if I'd be happier spending my days in a way that I love, and sacrificing the climate I adore. What's more important -- the outside climate? Or my day to day existence?

You'd think when it's put that way, that the choice is easy. But it's not. Let's face it, the outside climate has a pretty big impact on how you live your life. Whether you drive or walk to the store. If you go outside for walks. If you sit outside on a hot summer's day and enjoy the sunshine. How you socialize. How much you enjoy your commute (if such a thing is possible). How housebound you are.

Or, you say -- how about another job? Well, the fact is that I write for a living, and my current employer pays me handsomely to do so. And being paid handsomely for writing is, as far as I can tell, a rarity. And trust me, I've looked around. I do look around still. But having someone write, and write only, all day, within an organization, and paying them well and giving them benefits and a pension plan and subsidized daycare and NOT having them working in the volatile high tech sector ... rare. 

But moving? Moving I could afford to freelance. To expand my writing career and write what I want, or even write what I don't want but not work at it all day everyday ... it's attractive. 

Anyway. This is long and disjointed and not very good. (Ha! I write for a living! You'd never know it!) It's a brain dump. I haven't sorted it out, we haven't sorted it out. We may not. We will probably still be living here in a few years, because moving is a hassle and expensive, and we have good jobs and good daycare and there are good schools nearby. But the economics of our society are volatile these days ... so you never know. And part of me thinks -- well, you know, that's ok. Because maybe something that forces us to change will bring unforeseen gifts to us as well.