Fell in love with two new apartments yesterday. Both are WAY more than I want to pay, but still less than what I AM paying.
Took the Houseguest to see them afterward. She’s “meh” on everything. She says to take time and really look around and think about it.
This is the view from one of the apartments. Lovely, yes?
I’m exhausted. I’m dying. I gave up two freelance jobs. I’m falling down on the job on the last one standing. I’m working my ass off at the full-time job and not getting very far.
The money savings may not be significant (ergo, she’s right, why move?). But to shave something, ANYTHING off that commute? Would save my life.
I’m so stressed out, I’ve tapped into the Freezer Klonopin. I have a bottle I shoved in there from my old Evil Empire days. Haven’t needed them for a year. Now after two solid days of chest pains, well, yeah. Old Klonopin is better than none at all.
Oh, did I mention I have to give notice to my apartment complex on Monday whether I intend to stay?
I hate moving. I hate dragging someone around town who doesn’t want to go. I hate only saving maybe $200 a month after all the aggravation.
But I also hate coming home late every night, falling asleep on the couch, waking up in a PANIC because I didn’t do my freelance work, scrambling to DO said freelance work, and then getting to the real job late. (As if arriving at 8:15 after an hour-long drive should ever be considered late.)
Something’s got to give. And at this rate, it’s going to be me…