Mine’s fine I suppose, but teepees come in all shapes, sizes & colors

 

This past Tuesday, we had some terrible storms.  (Well, terrible for the poor folk who woke up to flooded basements or worse—personally I love ‘em, especially at bedtime.) So that night I laid in bed & enjoyed the light show outside my window, and the following morning after I get up to get ready for work, I’m shaving & I hear a persistent PLOOP… PLOOP… PLOOP…  what the devil?

I had a leak in my bedroom ceiling last winter, so I’m familiar with that sound.  I race in there & check it out—nope, all dry.  I head into my livingroom, and directly between my tv & bookcase is a 2 inch circle of wet on the floor.  I look up—there’s a big drop of water hanging from the ceiling.  PLOOP!

I wasted no time calling my building’s management & yelling into the phone that this was the second time this year, I was fed up & no I will NOT put a bucket under it, I hope it’s acid rain and it can eat thru the floor and right into the apartment below for all I care.  (They sighed and assured me they’d send someone out to take care of it right away, and they did.)  Later at work, I grumbled to my friend Kathy that I had it coming, this is what I get for living in the ghetto.  She said “you don’t live in the ghetto”  & I said “Sure I do, my rent’s only 600 bucks, there’s a reason.”   She said “Well, it’s helped you save for your retirement” and I said “was it worth it though, living in a dump for the last umpteen years?!”  Kathy said “McDougall, It’s not a dump, it’s your home!”  I wanted to hug her.  

She’s right—I’m just a renter, but this IS my dump—I mean home.  I’ve always felt that way, and I’m always surprised and a little hurt by the people in my life who don’t.  But I HAVE been here a long, long time & I’m thinking that when & if I can cut those work-strings, it might be time for a change.  Do I want to move back to my hometown, where I grew up?  I’d be closer to family but it’s been 25 years and I’m not sure that feels right to me anymore.  Do I want to try and fix up the place I have now, with some paint and new artwork & furniture?  Yes, I think I’d like that.  Or do I want to sacrifice some living space, pay a little more rent & move into a better building?   Yes, I kinda want that too.

Floorplan of the studio that caught my eye (click on it for larger view)

I don’t know why, but I’ve always had an appreciation for confined spaces—I think they speak to the agoraphobe in me.  (I’d probably do just fine in a prison or padded cell, and yes you should be worried for me.)  All I know is, I don’t require a lot of room.  So recently, when browsing some apartment listings in my general area, I came across an old condo building converted into modern apartments (but with modern pricing too, a one bedroom is 850.00, a 2 bedroom is 1150.00).  Ouch!  That’s a bit steep for my budget, but the property has several studios too, and only a hundred bucks more than what I’m paying now.

      

Their studios come with a nice balcony, bamboo flooring and a small kitchen with new cabinets & granite countertop; but there’s no bedroom!

I’m going to see it in person later this week (just out of curiosity, my current lease doesn’t expire for 5 months anyway; but they said that’s okay, they have a number of these studios available).  The heat’s included (yeah!) but you have to pay for parking (boo).  So we’ll see.

And finally, when I called to make the appointment, the woman asked me where I lived now.  When I told her, she said “Oh this isn’t far from there… why are you looking to move?”  I said “A change of scenery I suppose… plus I have a ceiling that keeps springing a leak!  I’m sure my landlord wouldn’t mind seeing me go.”  She said “Hey wait.. is this Doug over in the Monroe Building?”  I said “Huh?” 

She said “Hi Doug, this is Sarah from Lobs Management!  We own this rental property too!”