Yes, I Have Moved...AGAIN

As some of you know, September 1st the time to move in Boston. The largest turnover in housing happens on this date, and it is a mass exodus of people hauling their stuff all over the city and the surrounding areas. My move last year was not terrible, aided by the rain and the help of a friend, and fortunately, I was settled in more or less within a few hours.

This year, however, I had more things and more furniture, as it happens when you stay in a place for a year, and are forced to move on the city's time frame, I had to make things work with a whole weekend of moving. In between my two jobs, scheduling movers, and moving into a smaller apartment than my current place, this turned into a disaster, and I'm still recovering.

But to help make me less stressed about living in a space that is about as large as my room in my former apartment, I've decided to make a list of all the things I will not miss about my old apartment. It's called, closure, people.

I must put a disclaimer that I am well aware of the housing crisis that is happening in the area (to read more, one of my managers at the bookstore has written several very informative articles for dig Boston. Click here here here) and I am very grateful that I am in a place where I can live on my own and have a space that is my own.

Right-o, the top 5 things I will NOT miss about my old apartment (in no particular order):

1. The fat-asses who lived above me and who insisted on jumping on their trampoline at all hours of the day

Oh yes, the dreaded upstairs neighbors. Everyone has lived underneath these people. The people that don't realize that their floor is your ceiling, and that yes, you can always hear them having sex. My roommate had the constant-sex maniacs in the room above hers; I had the trampoline fanatics. Needless to say, the trampoline antics went on for longer than the sex-capades, and we always wondered what these people looked like who walk around in the apartment (were they sumo wrestlers? giants?) since they sounded like they were about to come crashing through our ceiling any time they were walking around. When we finally did see these people, it wasn't what we were expecting at all. I will not miss their loudness.

I'm pretty sure this is what was happening upstairs.

2. The mice

I know, I know, the city where I lived is fondly known as Allston Rat City. I knew this when we were looking for apartment last year, and I certainly know this now, as the mice made several appearances in that apartment. What I wasn't expecting were for the mice to sound like they are dragging their tiny feet across the floor and getting ready to take up residence in my bed at 3am. Nor was I expecting a completely blasé landlord to not do anything about the mice roaming the halls of not just my apartment, but several others. My favorite interaction with the landlord was when I was asked, "Do you keep food on the ground? We've had other tenants keep food on the ground, and that tends to attract the mice." WHO THE HELL KEEPS FOOD ON THE GROUND? Why would you need to keep food on the ground? There are cupboards; there is a refrigerator. Unless you have SO MUCH food that it is literally falling out of both of those places, there is no need to be a sloppy, lazy asshole who keeps food on the ground. I will not miss the rodents.

This is what I imagined running around my floor. Cute, isn't it?

3. The B line

My apartment was conveniently located about a block from the B line - far away to not hear the train every time it came up and down the street, but also not close enough that I wasn't out of breath if I had to go sprinting for it in the morning. Again, another oversight on my part when I was looking for an apartment is that the B line has more stops on it than any other green line train. So when I was cursing the person who has their armpit in my face at 7:30 in the morning and the hoards of drunk college students that take up residence on the B line anytime I just wanted to get home and put on sweatpants, it was my own damn fault. I will not miss these cretins.

4. People who trashed the foyer/mailbox area and would leave the front door unlocked

I'm putting these two types of people in the same category because all these shenanigans happen in the same area. I can't tell you the number of times when I would come home and see that someone had left the front door to the building unlocked. Granted, it's a little confusing to tell if the door is locked or unlocked, but I would think that people would pay attention when taking their key out of the lock. Also, the people that felt the need to strew all of the ads left in the foyer were clearly mentally unstable. When the foyer looked like a Mardi Gras parade went through it at 2 am, you know there are some people with way too much time on their hands. My favorite story involves my roommate going downstairs to get the mail, only to find someone (who doesn't live in the building, mind you), sitting in the foyer, ripping up coupons for a local pizza place into tiny pieces and blocking the exit. If you do not want the ads from all the local food establishments, then take them into your apartment and throw them away. Don't leave them all over the ground so that I can trip and break my face on the stairs. I will not miss these inconsiderate fools.

Not entirely inaccurate.

5. People who left their laundry in the washer or dryer for hours, or the people that pulled my laundry out if I'd left it in either machine for twenty seconds past the timer

Now I'm aware that these people exist everywhere - apartments, college dorms, maybe even in your own home - sure, but I swear I practically had to sit on top of the laundry machines any time I tried to do my laundry, or it would turn into the Hunger Games for the use of the facilities. There were two washers and two dryers for 12 apartments, and frequently one or more of the machines would be broken. I'm a clean person, and I like my clothes to be clean. But when Frat Boy #1 can't be bothered to pull his boxers out of the washer for two hours, then I get mad. Many times I would come back the next day to finish dying clothes that I didn't get a chance to dry the night before, only to find that the person who left their clothes in the dryer before still hadn't pulled their stuff out. Unless you've died, or had someone close to you die, there is no need to leave your clothes unsupervised for 24 hours. I will not miss the laundry hogs.

Just add a laundry basket and this was me going for the washer. 

I've moved into my new apartment, which has its own set of quirks, the most significant one being that it approximately 150 square feet, and I'm still convinced that my loft bed that I put together will fall apart and I will end up on the floor in a broken heap.

SO MUCH ROOM FOR ACTIVITIES!

Until next time, happy Friday!