I've been in Manhattan for three months and in that time I've lived in two places, soon to be three. I started off on a friends couch in Brooklyn Heights. An adorable, easy, pretty neighborhood that almost made me want to stay put. But I wanted to live in Manhattan so I hit Craigslist and I hit the streets. After seeing 13 apartments all over downtown I settled on a place in the Lower East Side. It was a 2-bedroom apartment I would be sharing with an actress. I loved the apartment and my new roommate, my first roommate in over five years. Could I live with someone again? I hoped so. I had a view from my room. I had sun. I had space. I felt lucky and blessed.
This feeling only lasted two months. Sadly I have to move. On October 1st I found out I had to either pay more rent or move. So, I've spent the last three weeks pounding the pavement and trolling Craiglist. I ran from neighborhood to neighborhood. I was on time and I was late. I was depressed, angry, sad and most of all, anxious. Would I find something I liked just as much? Would I find something with as much space? Would I find anything at all? Would I be homeless? Well, after seeing 12 apartments I'm happy to report that I found just the right place (view above). On November 1st I will be moving to a new home. My new home for the next year. No roommates! (insert image of me jumping up for joy.)
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