Brooklyn…Queens…I Think I Might Be On My Way…

This afternoon I got the email I have both been dreading and checking my inbox for incessantly. My asshole Russian mafia landlord finally sent me my lease renewal information. It is official, I have to move on June 1st, whether I want to or not. For what they have raised the rent to I would not stay even if I wanted to and could afford the ridiculous sum of money they think my place is now worth. The bathroom drains are horribly slow even when freshly snaked. The new neighbors on the 4th floor have two dogs that bark shrill, loud barks…only between the hours of 9:00PM and 12:00AM. The floors and ceilings are so thin I know my upstairs neighbor way too intimately (I hate his musical tastes). The washers and dryers are so dirty and overpriced after the recent price hike that I have actually gone to the Laundromat across the street. I love my apartment, for the most part, and I love my neighborhood, for the most part. I do not love either enough to stay in this apartment.

I finally buckled down and started more than just pursuing and Craigslist. Suddenly anything, and I do mean anything with four walls and a roof that boasts a washer and dryer is on the list of places I must look at. Even if this washer and dryer means I will be commuting over an hour in each direction to get anywhere outside of my immediate neighborhood that I would want to go within NYC. Boast a new kitchen with a full-sized fridge, decent sink, and more than three feet of counter space and you could probably convince me to move to Far Rockaway or Jamaica. Tell me you don’t accept pets, even my precious cat who has never made a mess that could not be easily cleaned with a wet paper towel, and I will instantly think the apartment you are renting is the biggest piece of overpriced crap I have ever seen. I’m a little emotional and irrational about this whole apartment hunting thing right now. I should probably wait a few days until I can calmly look through the listings. Although, sitting on the 3 train for an hour might not be that bad if I could do my laundry in my own apartment, right?


About djunapassman

I teach yoga, write, and edit. I live in a Brooklyn neighborhood that is changing faster than I can, or care to, keep up with. Manhattan still beckons me to her island a few subways stops away, reminding me of when I lived amongst her daily hustle and bustle.
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