Back in November, JO and I decided to do something crazy. We put an offer on a new condo, about 15 minutes down the street from our beloved apartment #5, and it was accepted on Thanksgiving. The offer was contingent on us selling our place, so we mustered all of our energy and over Thanksgiving break we painted, cleaned, scrubbed, and moved most of our stuff into storage. I can't even begin to tell you how much work that was. It was nonstop for seven days but it worked. We put our place on the market the first week of December, and four days later we had accepted an offer.
Everything was going so smoothly until January. I won't get into the whole long story here, but it's been one delay after another. On January 23rd we moved out of apartment 5 and into temporary housing behind the Whole Foods in Fresh Pond. We went from living in a vibrant square, to living behind a strip mall and across from a park sometimes visited by hooligans and cultists at night. (Don't get me wrong, the park is awesome but weird stuff happens there at night and there are almost no places for us to walk to here.)
When we moved into this apartment it was supposed to be four a month, maybe six weeks. Well, today marks day 198. I'm really sick of being stuck in this weird "in between." This apartment isn't bad, but it isn't home and it's small. It's only a 1 bedroom, and JO and I are on top of each other. There's really no where to walk to around here and I hate the idea of driving to places in the city. There have been so many times during these 198 days where it seemed like we were close to being done only to find out that bricks were stuck in China, or historical doors weren't historical enough. Now it seems like we are super close but things are delayed yet again.
School starts soon. Moving our home and moving my classroom are going to crash into one another and that's a bit overwhelming. In any event, I'm super sick of sharing a bathroom with my cats, I'm sick on not living in a neighborhood, and I'm sick of limbo.
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