I am moving on Thursday. I can’t wait. But I am also nervous about tackling a new beginning, again, even if it is only a couple of miles away. Because it feels like a world away. Okay, maybe only half a world. Regardless, I have pushed through most of the packing, thanks to my neighbor’s help, and what’s left is not all that much. Which left some time tonight to ponder the old vs. new.
New Place–Valet parking
Old Place–Threaten to have pick-ups towed when stupid guys in the building next door park in my space.
New Place–“We can show you a model, but we can’t violate the privacy of the current tenant of the apartment you will be renting.”
Old Place–Disgusting pig of a landlord continues to come into my apartment when I am not home. Seriously, he must know every color of every pair of underwear I own.
New Place–Continental breakfast served every morning in a common area.
Old Place–Can’t make coffee with water from the tap because it is yellow and foul tasting.
New Place–Views of Intracoastal and mega yachts and a pool with fountains.
Old Place–Views of revolting new neighbors in our courtyard pool–neighbors who think allowing their children to swim in their clothing is quite proper. Then they jump in after them, fully dressed as well, after tossing their lit cigarettes into the once blue water. Oh, and then there is Unit 3, the residents of whom think that letting their pit bull swim and pee in the pool is hilarious.
New Place–Security gate, key-fob entry, 24-hour everything else.
Old Place–Given that my place is open and available for entry 24/7 on the whim of my landlord….
New Place–Private balcony with room for chairs and a table
Old Place–Common front balcony/walkway and railings from which we all hang towels and clothing just to annoy our pig of a landlord.
New Place–Walk to the beach
Old Place–Drive to the beach
New Place–Don’t know anyone there, but hope to meet new folks.
Old Place–Leaving behind some funky, fun, and dear friends.
New Place–Can’t wait.
Old Place–Can’t believe it’s been a year.