Here’s hoping I don’t join the ranks of the homeless in libraries. I’m moving to Wilhelmsplatz but durn if I can’t find a place. I naively assumed that a college town like W’splatz would have lots of apartments. Well– they do have lots of apartments. Lots of occupied apartments.
There’s one place that looks really good that will be available on the 21st of October. Thing is, I start work on the 19th. Other thing is, I told my current apartment people I’d be out of there by the 19th.
So tomorrow I’m gonna go beg my apartment manager for a two-day extension. If that works out, and if I can snag the lease on the apartment in Wilhelmsplatz, I’ll be good to go, ‘cept that I’ll still be living in Franklin for my first two days on the job. It’s a two-hour drive each way. But it could be a lot worse. ‘S not like I’m moving across country.
So here’s the other reason I’m nervous about being homeless. Let’s say everything works out, and I get this apartment and get moved in and the kitties arrive in one piece. A question remains: how in holy fuck am I going to pay for it? Dear sweet Jesus, rent is high in Wilhelmsplatz. The place I’m looking at, with 900 square feet and only one lousy utility included (trash collection, big deal), runs $825, along with a $300 pet deposit.
Maybe I should send the girls back to the pound. Lord knows they don’t do anything to earn their keep. Just this morning I told them to start packing, but when I got back from work, did I see any boxes packed? No. Did I see any boxes that had been clawed and artistically arranged into a kitty fort? Oh my yes.
Back to kvetching about money. We’re looking at U-Haul rental, gas for the U-Haul, pet fees, deposit, high rent, utility connection fees, strange new expensive utilities (heat? You mean I have to pay for my own heat now?– good thing the girls wear fur coats), and miscelleanous fees, e.g., buying dinner and beer for whichever poor souls I sucker into helping me move.
I am excited about my new salary because it starts with a 4, but it is becoming painfully clear that it will be less in ways that matter to my pocket book after the bills have been paid, vis., less to my student loans.
But hey, so what if I’m in debt till I’m 82. I will be in debt in Wilhelmsplatz, not Franklin. This is a remarkably optimistic attitude, coming from me. Just goes to show how much I’m looking forward to the new job.
It would be out of character for me to end a blog post (or an email, or an article, or a letter to the editor, or a Happy Birthday card) on such a positive note, so here’s something troubling, instead: Has it occured to you, faithful reader, that the new library might not let me have purple hair?