Apartment-searching is simultaneously my most and least favorite task. I love the speculation, the envisioning of a better life somewhere else. But the drawbacks are, of course, the expense and headache of packing all of one’s worldly posessions into boxes and transporting them any sort of distance. Kevin and I are looking for a new one-bedroom in Andersonville/Edgewater/Uptown. Chicagoans, let me know if you spot any “For Rent” signs on your jaunts about town. I am especially coveting places with: an office, a dishwasher, a back porch.
Note: This is a key instance in which being a _bird_ and not a _human_ would be amazing. Birds can nest in trees. And eaves. And birdhouses made by people. For free.
I hear you, lady…I am currently living in tote/box/packing tape world. I ran out of boxes. And then went to the local liquor store to pick up some empty bud light boxes, and was told, “Yeah, I mean, you can take a couple…you can take two. Yeah, two. We use those…for stuff.” Sweet. Thanks for all your help man. I’ll just take my $9 sixer and go.
Awesome. I know — it seems crazy to purchase boxes, but at the same time, scavenging is such a pain. Or remarkably awkward.