You must understand

Laura was in the neighborhood today to check out the apartment building across the street, and I just went along with her to have a second look. The landlord, who reminds me of nobody so much as a perfect combination of Grandpa Lowell and Mr. Rogers, said the building was constructed in 1928. It's dingy around the edges, with slightly peeling walls and dimly lighted hallways and everything squeaks like a devil rat, but I dunno, there's just something about it...maybe it was the old house smell, or the squeaky hardwood flooring, or the glass doorknobs, or some combination of everything, but whatever it was sent me straight back to 11th ave.

That was always my favorite house. After years of living in the 2311, and now the 704, I had rather forgotten what is was that I liked about it so much, and now that I notice all the little details and differences, I don't know what ever compelled me to settle for less. I'll take drafts if it means the windows are wide and sills deep. I'm ok with flooring that sounds like the cricket verson of ozzfest if they're warm and worn and wooden. The walls can peel a little here and there if there's a little door that opens to let an ironing board fold out. I don't even iron anything, I just want stuff to fold out of the walls, it's so Bond. Ironing bond. I want slightly chipped porcelain fixtures in the bathrooms. I want my sofa to feel at home.

So yeah, basically I am looking forward to the end of the lease.

I hear they're ok with cats there.