Steph and the Old Man and I had a chat tonight about where we’re all at with the living situation. They’re happy to have me if I need to stay, but honestly, me and the Old Man have been itching to have our own places for months now. They’re not as neat-freaky as I am, and I’m getting tired of picking up dirty dishes and he’s tired of me playing loud music. It’s not like we want to murder each other, but we both really like our own space, and I’ve been dying to get my own – he’s been dying to get his back.
What triggered the conversation was that they wanted to remodel the bathroom this summer, and to be dead honest, I wanted the hell out of the house before that happened. I’ve been in the house during major remodeling before, and this one is going to take even longer. I really don’t want to be here when it happens.
So I’m pretty much bouncing off the walls right now because oh man do I want my own damn place. Oh man oh man.
If I wanted to live in Ghetto Dayton, I could pay $325 on the north side or downtown, but for $450 I can get a one bedroom near the U of Dayton (OK neighborhood, not ghetto). Take the $350 a month I give over to the CC that’ll be paid off when I get my first book check and $250 I currently pay for rent and viola! You have $450 for rent and $150 for utilities.
We’re looking at a June 1 or July 1 move out/move-in date, so I’ll start my planning accordingly. By the end of March/April I’ll be doing serious apartment hunting (it’s also a great time of year to pick up apartments near UD cause the students are leaving for the summer). We can do all the moving with the truck and car they’ve got, so no rental van necessary. I haven’t bought, well, pretty much anything since I moved in, so the actual moving of stuff will just be a couple big pieces of furniture and lots of books.
Waiting for the summer means waiting for the book check and a little more job security at work (as of June, I’ll have been there a year). And also means I’ll move before the bathroom remodel (OH THANK YOU GOD).
I’m so frickin’ happy to be in a place where I’m actually, you know, physically and mentally and financially capable of being on my own again. It’s been a fucking rough two years. Steph is broken up about me going, but I was like, um, yo: that’s how you know you did a good job. The busted up bird is able to fly on its own again.
You guys did good.
(OMG I GET TO BUY MY FRENCH PERFUME AGAIN!!!! AND LIGHT SCENTED CANDLES!!! AND USE APRICOT FASHWASH!!! OMG!!!!)
