I am totally Angela Chase giggling madly to herself, "I feel like... like my life just figured out how to get good."
In a whirlwind of Universal flow, I moved into a new apartment on Friday. Not just an apartment - the apartment. The one you dream about, the one you've built in your mind to house every fantasy self you create.
I've been looking for a new apartment with varying levels of enthusiasm for awhile. The urge comes in waves. The biggest wave usually occurs around the 1st of the month, as I write my catastrophic rent check. I'm being priced right out of Big Gay Capitol Hill.
A handful of half-hearted attempts in early January resulted in a cloud of discouragement. The available apartments I looked at were severely lacking in joie de vivre. Some were cheaper than others. Most of them required surrendering one luxury or another, like reserved parking, accessible laundry, a bedroom, or 600 square feet. Little things, yes - but uninspiring.
Then I found my perfect abode on Mermaid Avenue. Twenty paces from the beach, woken up by seagulls on the veranda, sunshine on my face. 50's beach motel conversion with mahogany walls and built-in bookshelves. All at $400 less a month.
Home, sweet.
RSS: subscribe to feed