The sublet on my delightful and large Constitution Ave. apartment was up on the last day of May. I started looking for a new home in March and was down to the wire two weeks before I had to move.
There's a long story involved here, and it's boring to me nowadays, so suffice it to say that there was a place I wanted to move and I found out I could move in there three days before I had to be out of my first Fort Collins home.
I moved in on a Saturday. Another long story short, I moved out on Sunday amidst a lot of crying on my part. Seriously. I was a pansy.
But you would have been, too. It was not pretty. But it's done. And I have my new little (temporary) home close to work, very cheap, one roommate, one giant pile of stuff in the middle of my bedroom floor. My stuff, mind you. But I have no where to put it at the moment.
And it's making me restless. I'm already packed. Maybe I should just....move?
1 comment:
Two weeks in and I still have a pile of stuff in the middle of my floor. Who am I kidding; I've also got small to medium sized piles of stuff in every corner of the room. Three years and you collect a lot of stuff. Stuff you need but have no where to put when you downsize apartments and lose three closets. Wow... I've already been here three years!
My solution... new furniture. It should be here next week, I just have to find the time to go lug it down a flight of steps and put it into an SUV and cart it home...
And I’m glad you moved out of the second place… that guy was way out of line!
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