I thought that by the time I was 26 years old, I would be able to afford a nice, one-bedroom apartment. (Well, I thought that a LOT of things would be happening by now that definitely aren't, but let's not dwell on that, shall we?) The first floor of a rowhouse, a condo, or... something. Instead, I am forced to look at basement apartments that remind me of college. And not the embracing warm womb of the dorm with the dining halls, huge bathrooms, and automatic cliques -- the shittier, dirtier, off-campus places with scary, unidentified spiders and stall showers.
When I finally ventured out of the dorms and into the off-campus lifestlye, I was PUMPED to find a two-bedroom basement apartment for $800. All of the utilities were included and there was a campus bus stop halfway down the block. Sure, it was a mile off of campus and missing the bus meant a nice, hefty walk to my work, but it was a STEAL compared to what others paid.
But what was with the furniture? If you lived in a furnished apartment in Ann Arbor, you had the same crap as everyone else. The same disgusting couch, the same shudder mattresses, and the same industrial-sized desks that some company probably gave up for free. But it was the first time that I was finally on my own - as "on my own" as I could be with my parents 40 minutes away - and it was sweet.
But now? We can't live in the super awesome house because we don't want to get stolen while walking home in broad daylight. We can't afford a townhouse in a nice area, and where the hell are the hood prices in the GD hood? GONE. It's now too expensive to live in a crack den in DC.
I am SO tired of apartment searching. It is stressful and I'm tired and I can't fall asleep.
Pray. For. Mojo.
1 comment:
I totally have to cite awesome old roomie Jenny for the "hood prices in the hood" thing. That was totally her idea. She's awesome, by the way. I miss her.
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