ugh
I am so SO tired out, crabby, and generally hateful towards the universe by apartment hunting, and we've really only been at it in a concerted fashion for two days.
We found a place. I, at least, really really really like it, although mine seems to be the minority opinion. I'm to drop off the applications tomorrow morning and hope some other random didn't pull it out from underneath while we were off mucking around. I hope to god I'm right in my prediction that LOOKING for a place would be more painful than actually moving. (Most inconvenient, innit, that the normal & sensible hours that managers keep to show places also happen to be the same hours that the rest of us work at our jobs?) The 17th and Union complex is right across the park from samildanach & co. and Trader Joe's, and bellowing distance from SuperHappyQFC++, so I could probably tolerate that.
to clarify: the place that I Really, Really, Really Like is not at 17th and Union. It's at Harvard and Olive, about equidistant from Broadway as my current apartment at 11th and John-which-is-also-Olive. We drove by the 17th and Union place, and it looks okay from the outside, but weren't able to stop in, so my enthusiasm for that one is pretty much a function of not completely hating it. I could, however, stand to investigate further.
I canNOT tolerate the bajillions of little places in the Godforsaken Triangle between Harborview, Swedish and the Polyclinic. I looked at an apartment once in that area and wanted to cry when I was done. In my architecture class we talk about why Americans, by and large, seem to demand actual houses in the 'burbs with at least some little plot of earth to call theirs - why we don't take well to being stuffed in little boxes. In that area, I suddenly recall why. It's completely bloody DISMAL, it is. I could maybe live there if I planned to spend no actual time living there, but if all I wanted was somewhere to put my stuff, I would get a U-Stor-It.
Now is the time for girl scout cookies, kingdom of loathing, and a nap.
We found a place. I, at least, really really really like it, although mine seems to be the minority opinion. I'm to drop off the applications tomorrow morning and hope some other random didn't pull it out from underneath while we were off mucking around. I hope to god I'm right in my prediction that LOOKING for a place would be more painful than actually moving. (Most inconvenient, innit, that the normal & sensible hours that managers keep to show places also happen to be the same hours that the rest of us work at our jobs?) The 17th and Union complex is right across the park from samildanach & co. and Trader Joe's, and bellowing distance from SuperHappyQFC++, so I could probably tolerate that.
to clarify: the place that I Really, Really, Really Like is not at 17th and Union. It's at Harvard and Olive, about equidistant from Broadway as my current apartment at 11th and John-which-is-also-Olive. We drove by the 17th and Union place, and it looks okay from the outside, but weren't able to stop in, so my enthusiasm for that one is pretty much a function of not completely hating it. I could, however, stand to investigate further.
I canNOT tolerate the bajillions of little places in the Godforsaken Triangle between Harborview, Swedish and the Polyclinic. I looked at an apartment once in that area and wanted to cry when I was done. In my architecture class we talk about why Americans, by and large, seem to demand actual houses in the 'burbs with at least some little plot of earth to call theirs - why we don't take well to being stuffed in little boxes. In that area, I suddenly recall why. It's completely bloody DISMAL, it is. I could maybe live there if I planned to spend no actual time living there, but if all I wanted was somewhere to put my stuff, I would get a U-Stor-It.
Now is the time for girl scout cookies, kingdom of loathing, and a nap.