Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Location, location, location

I really should’ve started on this whole quest for a new apartment when I started seriously considering moving elsewhere.

Instead, I elected to leave everything for the very last minute. I have not notified my apartment management company, Nielsen, Comcast, my grandmother, or pretty much anyone else.

I did tell my parents that I might be crashing with them for a month or six. And I mentioned it to Lucy when we went for coffee a few weeks ago.

As I explained to Lucy, I feel like I have three choices.
1. Stay where I am, on the East Side. Short commute to work, long commute to soccer, skating, and pretty much everything I find even remotely enjoyable.
2. Move somewhere close to home. A cool hour to work, but close to my friends, my family, a branch of the gym I already belong to, the facility I play indoor soccer at...and Colin.
3. Move somewhere in the middle. If I found an apartment in one of the young, hip cities that are conveniently between where I live and where I grew up, I would be a half-hour from work, a half-hour from fun.

I’ve been leaning towards heading homeward bound. It appeals to my lazy side. I wouldn’t have to learn my way around a new city. I could easily stay at home for a few months, bulk up my bank account, let my parents baby me. I’d be within five minutes of Colin.

I had been considering asking my cousin Anna if she wanted to live together. If we did so, it would have to be somewhere in the middle. And I’d have to put aside my fears that she might be a teeny-tiny weird about her new boyfriend that she cannot seem to tear herself away from. But living close to home remained more appealing. Especially when, after I told Colin I may be his neighbor again in the near future, he nearly peed himself out of excitement.

So home it was. I was looking up apartments, trying to justify the fact that I would be spending as much as I paid for my lease on my apartment on the East Side and spending a lot more money on gas for my significantly longer commute. Spending more money than I already was, essentially, and making no headway on the debt that is starting to pile up and really freak me out.

I was still stuck on home. So maybe it was to Mom and Dad’s house. I get along with them perfectly well. I’d essentially erase all of my living expenses. And I could never go out on weeknights, stay at Colin’s, go to the bar wearing something ever-so-slightly sleazy, or get out from under my parents’ loving thumbs.

It was a bit of a conundrum. I was leaning towards moving in with Mom and Dad. And feeling sort of sick about having to tell folks that I was 25, living with my parents.

But then Lucy said that she and Chet were considering moving to the same middle area as me.

And we giggled excitedly about how much fun it would be to live in the same general vicinity. Then I emailed my cousin Anna and proposed that we become roommates; it looks like we’re a go.

Location: check.
Everything else: um. Not so much.

I’ll figure it out.

1 comments:

Stace said...

I attempted living with the 'rents, and then my mom gave me the rules. Wasn't going to work for me so I found a CHEAP apt, that I love, and will move in it here shortly. Do what works best for your pocket book though, that's the thing that always scares me the most. GOOD LUCK!

 
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