Really, it wasn’t all that bad. The kitchen was smallish, the closet space was minimal, and the bathroom was the size of an NYC bathroom (ya’ll from there know what I’m talking about), which gives me panic attacks.
But it was right down the street, reasonably clean, and the rooms were, well, adequate.
But that’s all it was, really: adequate. It was like the apartment I rented in South Africa. It was… enough. Adequate. But wandering around, looking at the panic-attack-inducing bathroom, I realized it just wasn’t enough for me.
I mean, hell, I’m 28 years old. I have a good job. I’m not a student anymore, and though I want to live frugally, do I really want to live like a cockroach? There’s living frugally, and then there’s panic attacks in the bathroom.
So I’m upping my limit to $525 instead of under $500. I want closet space, a balcony, and a decent sized bathroom in additional to my dishwasher and air conditioning. Call me high maintenance.
Call me old.
But you know what? It’s about damn time I lived like an adult and not a college kid in a fucking dorm room.