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Apartment of FAIL update

I've just been informed by my building manager that one of the couples on the third floor is moving out, either at the end of January or the end of February. It's not the couple living in the apartment with the peeing washer - it's the couple living in what I thought was the studio apartment at the back of the building. Except, it's not a studio. The manager told me it's a two-bedroom, with an open kitchen/living room. He didn't say if the bathroom is full-size (i.e., if there's a bathtub or just a shower stall), but there are windows in every room and hardwood floors. The apartment is actually larger than what I currently have. It's also a bit more expensive, but not by much. It would be $1175, and I'm currently paying $1065 for my one-bedroom - those are not unreasonable prices for this part of the country, so everyone put your eyeballs back in your sockets. :P

A two-bedroom apartment on a top floor. Or, as I see it: after spending twelve years living in SRO's, illegal crack-whore sublets, and moldering basements, I'll finally be in a proper one-bedroom with a writing office, with no one making noise above me at holy-fuck-o'clock in the morning.

I know it seems stupid to move when I'm planning on leaving the NYC area in a couple of years, but I said yes anyway. If I'm going to have to stay here a few more years, I'm going to do it in an apartment that doesn't make me want to kill myself every fucking time I set foot in it. I'll have a proper office, where I can write in relative peace and quiet - that to me is worth the extra expense. If I'm write more, I sell more, and if I sell more, I'll make up the cost. Or at least, that's what I'm going to tell myself when I add up all the moving expenses....

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.

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