Jealous.

Some part of the neurosis that I was born with drives me to check up on this apartment that I’ve put money down on already… pretty much on a daily basis.  I just want to make sure it’s still listed as “pending,” or that the square footage hasn’t changed or that some other unreasonable, paranoid, completely made up situation doesn’t occur.

Interestingly enough, today I checked in on the listing and saw that another apartment in the same creepy mansion is up for grabs.  Well, rather… was up for grabs.  Apparently apartments in this neck of the woods don’t stick around for very long because people are dying to move here (weird).

At first I was a little miffed, I must admit.  I saw the pictures before anything else and it looked like the kitchen had just gotten a really nice remodel and there was a bay window, both things that my place is lacking, and all of this was 25 bucks cheaper than what I snagged my future home for!  After I actually calmed down and read the description I realized that it was just a studio apartment and I must be the one who lucked out with a one bedroom for only 25 dollars more.  Of course, the floor plan wasn’t posted and neither was the square footage, so for all I know this “studio” apartment could be 1,000 square feet and have a fire place and a live-in maid.

I guess we will find out when I move in though, my new neighbors actually get to move in a month before me… which I find sort of strange, but it’s just the luck of the draw I suppose.

It’s mine.

So it’s officially official.  I have a place to call my very own – even if it is a little on the smaller side…

I don’t doubt that I can exist in such a small space, it will definitely be a change though…  The part that really makes my heart skip is what kind of building I am moving into.  I mean, it definitely sounds good, an 8,500 square foot mansion on 2.5 acres built in 1900 that has been converted into apartments.  What’s not to like?  Maybe the fact that it was converted in thirteen apartments… Or that the entrance looks like it came straight out of a 1970’s slasher movie… Or the whole giant mirror at the base of the staircase that looks like it’s seen more of Bloody Mary than I would even like to think about.

Eh, regardless of all of the terrible, horrifying things that I can think of happening in the dead of night around this place, the important thing is that it is mine – Thank ya’ Jesus.

Move in is October 1st.  I’ll be celebrating with pumpkin spice everything and watching Hocus Pocus on repeat.  Until then, I’ll be filling this blog with all of the awesome things that I want but can’t afford and certainly cannot fit into 400 square feet.

What are we even doing here…

The truth… is that I’ve always wanted to keep a blog but I’ve never had the time. Well, maybe I have had the time; what I really haven’t had is the balls, I suppose – like the internet is really where I need to be worried about people making fun of me… right.

Anyway. I finally worked up the manhood to buckle down and start writing about something, and what better to write about than the trial and tribulations of a 20 something working a dead-end job for next to no money and trying to survive on his own? I know. You’ve all heard that story before. What really pushed me to start, though, was the idea of keeping absolute strangers in the loop about how I am moving out of my current apartment – which is a sprawling 1300 square feet – and downsizing, in a big way, to a shoebox that is just over 400 square feet. That sounds like an awful decision, right? Yeah, I thought so too… Until I remembered that I would much rather be sticking it out in a place that isn’t much larger than one of those middle school dioramas by myself than sharing some scaled down version of the Taj Mahal with three other people… For the first time in my whole life I will be living on my own. With the exception of my buddy Samson. He can come alone too, I guess.

Now then. Allow me to introduce the cast of this sure-to-be awe inspiring story:

Me! My name is Nick. I am a 25 year old kid faking my way through the workforce. I mean it. My chosen profession is working in HR at a corporate office, doesn’t that make it sound like I should be some kind of professional? You would think so, but the truth is that I would much rather play video games, lay in bed until 11 every morning and eat nothing but pizza and chocolate milk – this is why I could never write a blog about my futile attempts at a weight-loss journey (c’mon… we’ve all done it, don’t judge me).

Robert! My best friend, my partner in crime, my main slice. He’s pretty much the one constant in my life that I can actually count on. He probably won’t like the idea of being mentioned by name… but he deserves it. So you probably want to know if that means we are one of them abominable, sinful, homa-sectual couples. The short answer is yes. And I don’t plan on changing that any time soon.

Samson! My pet pig – well… Technically he’s a Boston Terrier. He snorts, he’s disgusting, and he’s the most adorable thing in the whole world. I’m pretty convinced that we see him as a 19-pound baby and he sees himself as a 90-pound power house. I suppose that is just the way of the Boston Terrier though.

So there you have it. My all-star cast of this thrilling nail-biter. Hopefully someone out there reads this and thinks I’m worth following.