The Hunt for My New Home Continues

I did indeed offer to buy my beloved apartment. However, my all-I-could-afford offer (AKA a lowball) was outright rejected. Honestly, I too would have rejected my offer if I were my landlord. But boo! The truth is that I could probably stretch myself super thin to buy this place, but what's the fun of a fabulous apartment if you can never throw a friend a birthday party or see a Cher concert or buy yourself flowers? I'm a pretty risk averse person, so the idea of handing over every penny to anything, especially real estate given how burned we got last year, sounds pretty terrible.

So now I'm back to where I was: soon to be homeless and hoping to find an almost as fabulous home that I can comfortably afford. But I'm not panicked like I was a few weeks ago. I do believe that things happen for a reason, even if it takes me a long ass time to figure out the reason.

I think of my adult life in chapters according to my addresses:

• my first apartment on my own after graduate school
• my apartment with Nora
• my apartment with Max
• our condo
• my current apartment, back to living alone

I've loved living here but I do believe in vibes or energy or whatever. Except for the condo (bad vibes, bad energy, just lots of sad and bad!), my other addresses have had plenty of good memories and a handful of not so good ones. This home has served me well but I've made some some stupid decisions while living here too. Maybe this chapter is supposed to be brief to make room for something new, like a mortgage with only MY name on it, or meeting a boyfriend, or a balcony where I grow basil.

It's scary to not know where in Ford I'll be living three months from now, or I'll be owning or renting, but exciting as well.