Apartment Livin'

I'm ready to move.

I have lived in the same apartment since 1994. Or maybe it was 1996. Well, whenever that bomb went off in Olympic park at the Atlanta games...that's the day I moved in here. (What a way to remember it, huh...) I have 4 rooms...living, bed, bath and kitchen. I'm not complaining about it - they're good sized...the building is pretty secure....we have a laundry room in the basement...I don't have to worry about mowing the grass or shoveling walks. A lot of folks out there are a lot worse off than me. But still...I'm ready for a change.

For one, there are some distinct downsides to apartment living. One such issue...while there is a laundry room, of course we have to pay. Quarters only. I hoard quarters like a raving lunatic. I mean it...if it came right down to it, I'd cut your little pinkie right off to get a quarter away from you. It truly brings out a less-than-lovely side to a soul's personality.

On top of that, I live on the second floor. Which means since the laundry room is in the basement, I have to go down 3 flights of stairs to get to it. So I load up my basket as full as I can possibly cram it and lug it down the stairs. Open the basement door...no - can't open it - neighbor locked it on me. Don't have my keys. Put the basket down...back up the stairs. Get the keys, back down the stairs, open the door, head down the treacherous stairway of death that is nearly too narrow to carry a basket down. Get to the washers and realize...someone else has left their wash in them. OK...don't want to carry that stupid basket back upstairs, so will leave it downstairs in my bin. Hmm...left the key to my bin upstairs. !!!!! Hide the basket back in the corner and hope no one steals my clothes. Repeat this process about 3 times before whoever it was finally retrieves their clothes. Did I bring the quar...I forgot the stupid quarters upstairs! Back up. Back down. Back up to wait. Back down to retrieve. Clothes are Gainy fresh. Now...if I could just get the others to get theirs out of the stupid dryer...

Parking is a joy too. There's no garage. And the lot is on the other side of the building from my place. So I normally park on the road in front of my door. That is, until everybody else in the building decides they want to park there too. Oh, but they only do that on the nights that I have 100 pounds of stuff to carry in. You'd think I'd be in better shape than I am by now. And winter is just grand. Try scraping 12 inches of ice and snow off a car standing the middle of a road where apparently people are not allowed to slow down as they drive through it because they sure as shootin' never do! The greatest invention I've ever found is "Heet" in a can. Takes ice right off the car. Of course I discovered the hard way that since the can is metal it will also eat the flesh right off your fingers if you spray it on a cold morning without gloves on. I cried all the way to work one day. It was not pretty.

Another problem is...well, me. I appear to be a bit of a pack rat. So you do the math....4 rooms....15 years.....that's a lot of junk in a little space. A LOT of junk. Really...you just have no idea how much junk...

SO...I'm ripe for a change. Someday, maybe, it will be a reality. I can't wait for the moment.

AND I dread it.

I mean, dear lord...how I am I going to pack all this junk...