It's official. Dom and I turned in our notice for moving out of the Zookster pad. In a way, I'm glad that moving is so goddamned stressful, because it won't allow me time to be sad about it.
Our date for vacating is June 1st. Dom and I are both looking for studios or (preferably) 1 bedroom apartments for less than $700/mo. Cats OK, obviously. Dom needs a parking space and I need to be as close to where I live now as possible, because I am irrationally attached to my neighborhood and fear change. If any of my dear readers sees anything fitting our descriptions, please let us know.
The thing that drives me the most nuts about having to move is the fact that it is IMPOSSIBLE to really look for apartments until after the first of the month. For someone who is obsessive about planning, this never fails to freak me out. So, of course, even though it is fruitless, I have already started searching on NW Classifieds and Craigs. Lo and behold, I found the apartment I lived in during my one and only other foray into living alone: The Melrose Court Apartments. For those of you who didn't know me then, Melrose Court is, perhaps, the most depressing apartment complex in Capital Hill. Its appeal is ALL about the price. There is nothing else nice about it. My “one bedroom” apartment was only 425 square feet, I couldn't even fit a couch in the “living room”, the walls were made of cinder blocks and my window overlooked a dumpster. My neighbor on one side was a drug dealer. On the other side, there lived a tempestuous couple who later broke up. The girl remained and was periodically stalked by her boyfriend. When I lived there, I was a very unhappy person so I wasn't that bothered by all of these things. This is why I thought nothing of it to recommend the building to Sherwood. I still feel bad about that. He was clearly not in the same frame of mind as I was.
Anyway, I mention all this because for some reason, I am strangely compelled to call them up. The price is still right (even though it has gone up a bit), but I don't think I'm in the same space I was then, so I would probably end up loathing it as Sherwood did. I think my inclination is proof that I am often as nostalgic about the bad times as I am about the good.
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