House hunting

How on earth am I supposed to pick out the space where I'll spend at least 45% of my time over the next __years if I don't have the foggiest idea what I'll be doing or who I'll be spending it with? Besides my husband, of course.

I think there was a sex in the city epi that referenced the idea that after a certain amount of time, a failure to make a decision in certain instances is a decision.

I can't imagine being a mother. And I can't imagine not being a mother. Perhaps mine is simply a failure of imagination.