I called the landlady AGAIN (my first call was beginning of April). This time she came over and was suitably horrified. At this point I started bawling. Not sure why. It's not THAT bad. I guess I'm just sick of getting screwed over with apartments.
Anyway, she is going to help me move into another unit. This should make me happy. But somehow it doesn't. I like my unit. It is my home. I know the new unit is nicer. Tile floors, new appliances, a dishwasher. But I love being on the top floor. I love my views of green trees. I like being able to see who's coming and going. The new apartment looks back on the parking lot with a view of a highway and with windows over the smoking area. It's on the second floor so I'll have someone above me. I won't get the amazing morning light. I won't be able to see when I have visitors (and there's no intercom system). So I feel sad.
Plus I have to move. Again. It's just such an effort. She says she and her fiance will move my stuff. But I still have to pack it. And I'll have to change my address again. I like my address. I finally remember it. That means new checks too. Gosh, I hope I don't have to change phone numbers as well.
And it's not coming at the most opportune time since I'm going out of town for 10 days next week.
On the bright side there is Jeremy. Yesterday he brought flowers and root beer floats. So nice.


1 comment:
what is the latest on the apt?
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