Each year, BFF M and I christen it "The Year of x." 2007 was the year of boat. 2006 was the year of love. 2008 is the year of key. For me, this optimistically meant the year that I moved to a place on Gramercy Park and got a key to the ridiculously exclusive park. That probably won't happen but I may get a new key yet. The moving itch is coming back.
Since 2000, I have lived in 10 places. Granted college was responsible for 5 of those moves but that is still a lot! Each time I move I tell myself "Roxy, you need to stay here for at least a couple of years. Fuck this moving every year shit." And every year I seem to end up moving. Sometimes the move is driven by money. I had to give up my first apartment in Norwalk because I couldn't afford it anymore when I condensed from two jobs to one. It was so hard because I loved the place -- a 1 BR railroad-style within walking distance of both Veterans Park and Metro North, with a dishwasher and laundry. I still think about that place and how well it was decorated it at least once a week.
But usually the move is driven by proximity to work. I moved in Norwalk the second time to be closer to the train station. I moved into the city to cut my commute by an hour. And now I've got a new work destination that is kind of far.
That's right, I got a new job. It all happened so fast that I feel like it's been one long daydream. While I love the people at my current company it was time for me to move on (and more importantly, up). I'm really sad to be leaving behind the Flatiron area and 5th Ave shopping in the 20s and teens. But then I'm not so sad because my new work is in SoHo. Near even more shopping...and even more expensive shopping. The only truly lame part is that my new office is closest to the A/C/E line and I don't live anywhere near that line. My options are to take the 6 to Spring Street and walk a bunch of blocks; take the N/R/W to Prince St and walk a bunch of blocks; transfer to the L at Union Square and then take the E at 8th Ave; or transfer to the E at 51st St and be squished by all the Penn Station commuters. It's a no-win situation.
That leaves one other option: moving. My new job has a better salary than I currently make so I could potentially trade up a little bit from my mostly-lovable teeny studio to something a bit less teeny. And as I type this post I am swarmed by both my loud neighbor talking on her phone and my upstairs neighbor's menagerie chewing on a rawhide on the floor while something else chases the loudest rolly toy ever. And, oh, to get away from the mice in my apartment!!!
Ideally I'd want to move to SoHo right on the Tribeca border. That area is pretty damn expensive though, and also loud at night. It would be quite the culture shock after my quiet Upper East Side neighborhood. I'm also just getting to know my neighborhood -- where to get my laundry done, what deli to eat at, the good dinner places, etc. Then again, the reason why it's taken this long is because none of my friends live up in "family zone" and it's a long ride for them to come up here. I remember having this same complaint in Norwalk too. Maybe my friends just don't travel very far.
I've spent the last few days browsing the apts by owner listings on Craigslist. With a slightly higher price range than last time I did my search I've yielded some tempting results. I'm considering a few of them. Why not, right? No broker's fee, closer to new work, new exciting neighborhood. I'm young and not married. This is when I'm supposed to be adventuring.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment