I've chosen to celebrate this blessed week by running between doorways so when my building falls down on my head, maybe I won't be completely crushed. The excavation next door is really kicking into high gear and my building is being tossed around like a refreshing salad, only instead of croutons, we have plaster dust.
Until you've lived through it, you really can't appreciate the feeling of waking up because your bed just lurched and the walls are shaking. It's like living on a fault line.
But you have the Mets and Broadway and all the cool bars where beer is $8. Living in NY is paradise, isn't it?
I read your posts and wonder, wtf is keeping you there? I hope it's a killer job because if you're making less than $60k...well. We just laugh about the east coast. My buddy sold his APARTMENT in Boston, moved here, and bought a house built in 1887 with two staircases, stained glass, original wood (he's the 3rd owner and the last owner was a widow who did nothing to the place) etc. and he got it for $300K, invested $150K and now it's amazing. 6800 square feet. Sure, to see Broadway he has to drive 15 min to the airport and buy a ticket. Perhaps when you reach your 30's and don't have the energy to go out until 3am and pound Red Bulls and hit the hippie til all hours you'll place less value in that sort of thing.
There's a 4br 3ba with wood floors and a fireplace west of the Miss with your name on it for around $220k. Ah. The joys of waterheater replacement and leaky roofs.
Posted by: paul | May 01, 2008 at 12:59 PM
I feel for you.
While our apt. isn't nearly in the shaky condition yours is in, we find that our floor's incline is slowly increasing.
Spilled liquids roll to one side of the room, and I frequently lose my balance while walking from the couch to the bathroom. Not to mention our friend's toddler toppled over on it was she attempted to run toward us.
Nice right? I only hope the incline works out my thighs, every little bit helps!
Posted by: Sarah | May 02, 2008 at 11:23 AM
I got the slope going big time here on the ground floor. Me and my big lug had to trade sides in bed , as he was rolling downhill onto me in the middle of the night. I like the tossed salad metaphor. Makes me want to hunt for bacon bits.
Posted by: mert | May 12, 2008 at 03:05 PM