a mistake

Lesson learned: never pick a place to live under pressure.

I needed to find a place before baby sister has her baby. I needed to find a third bedroom for little brother. I needed to find a place without my mother’s input. I needed to find a place that I could afford.

I found a place, I rented it, I hate it.

I thought that the drive would be fine. It’s actually less time than where I lived before. But the drive is somehow, more boring, and seems longer. I hate the drive.

The apartment is really a two-story townhouse with two bedrooms upstairs and one bedroom downstairs. The AC doesn’t cool the top floor adequately. If I’m having hot flashes right now, the summer is going to be absolute hell.

We have a bunch of twenty-something bachelors in the place to the right of us. Right now I can hear the thump-thump-thump of drums. Are they actually playing instruments over there at 11 p.m.? What the hell is going on? My mother’s bedroom is always lulled by music. She says it’s too early to complain.

I think I made a mistake in picking this place. It seemed perfect and now I just wished we hadn’t moved.

Did I mention that the apartment management didn’t update our mailbox for a few weeks, so our mail here was being returned? Did I mention that it looks like our mail from the old address isn’t being forwarded to the post office box I rented, even though it’s been more than four weeks?

Did I mention that little brother’s car died, so on top of everything else I have to take him to work at 6 a.m. every morning? (I know, I can’t blame the move for that, but it just adds to it.)

Since the playground is across the drive from my place, every afternoon every child in the apartment complex congregates there. It’s very noisy.

I hate this place. It may be time to buy. Any suggestions?

Author: Paloma Cruz

Find out more about Paloma Cruz through the About page. Connect with her on Twitter (www.twitter.com/palomacruz) and (Facebook).

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