(My mother disliked the term “suck” and was even a bit mystified at its mainstream usage considering its origins as a term for fellatio.)
It looks like I have to move out of my apartment. The owner wants to renovate and jack up the rent and I just can’t deal. I would not object to paying higher rent for a renovated place but the ordeal of having my place basically razed is not inspiring. I also have limited confidence in this owner’s worksmanship, not to mention his honesty. I also never really liked the place to begin with. Aside from anything like that, though, I’ve wanted to move for a long time now, and have been saying so for years. I am pursuing this without regard to the threat of renovation, as if that wasn’t even on the horizon, because it does not matter.
I have not moved since 1997, after the ill-fated jaunt to Atlanta ended prematurely with me skedaddling out of there in a U-Haul back to New York. I never intended to be at this apartment or even in Astoria for this long, but inertia is a powerful force, especially when it exerts itself upon the lazy. I changed my mind about moving back to Manhattan after getting whacked from corporate. Astoria has become for me a place to have a life, not a career, and Manhattan is mostly a pain in the ass to live in. Other options include taking a plunge and going someplace completely different, renting 7-room apartments for what I pay now for 2 rooms, and discovering what the rest of America is really like. I doubt I’ll be that energetic about it, though.
I am at a Starbucks on Northern Blvd and 51st St. Cheery space but the screaming kids are making me want to leave, and fast. The roads seemed strangely quiet today.
