Yesterday, I got the phone call that I've been dreading since being told my house was on the market. The house has been sold and I'm out on my ass. Actually I have 30 days and then I'm out on my ass. Hmmm...I wonder if I can find a place in 30 days in a city where the vacancy rate is less than 5% or something insane like that? Cut that in half if you have pets.
I've remained relatively calm about this whole thing. In the old days I would have already been through a case of beer and working my way through a bottle of scotch. Clearly the therapy is working. Thanks JGH-money well spent. I still can't talk to the WARDEN, but I can handle moving.
I actually went out today and looked at a place. It has everything I want and I don't feel like I'm getting bent over on the price. Sorry to be so graphic, but honestly the real estate market here is a bigger scam than the market I work in. I'm going to take it. It has a washer and a dryer, a yard, and the block is filled with families-amazing how your priorities change when you get older. I know I just bitched in the above paragraph about how hard it is to find a place to live here. I guess I got lucky. Who knows maybe giving that very pregnant woman my seat on the subway was a good thing.
To be honest I'm actually looking forward to a new place. I love my current place-size and proximity to the golf course, but I need a change. I have lived here for 4 years. In those 4 years I've fallen in and out of love, laughed, cried, come unhinged, and put myself back together all in 900 square feet-big by NYC standards. I haven't lived in a place that was solely mine since I lived in the building owned by the fireman in Chicago. Miz B. I know you remember that place. Fun times.
So, I'm gonna pack up my books, CDs, and assorted other shit and start fresh. When I get settled big party in the yard-come on over and bring your favorite canned beer.