Right after I gave up my apartment here in Dallas and I went back to the islands, I enjoyed the extra money I didn't have to pay for rent. But within the next 3 months, I started to feel stuck in Cebu and displaced from America and I started feeling the lack of enjoyment in my stay there. All I wanted to do was get out and come back here. So now am here and as I was browsing at the grocery store this morning, I am once again feeling justified for feeling that I really belong here. I look around this apartment, and although it's not mine but Chats', I feel so at home. I love everything about this apartment; the wood floors, the granite countertops and the ground level set up. So now back to the same old question: Should I get a husband or get a job?