going up?

So it’s true. I’m moving.

Which probably isn’t a surprise to most people given my past track record of, well, moving. Didn’t even last nine months here. Not that I routinely measure things by baby-brewing time, but does seem to do the trick on occasion.

It should be said, this isn’t a bad apartment and I’m actually quite fond of it. But the bedroom is singular and rather small. There is also an alarming lack of a washer and dryer. Naturally, I did know this when I rented the apartment. I wasn’t five months in, sitting on my couch watching The Office before realizing there’s no washer or dryer here. What an epiphany that would have been. “Crap! Where’d my washer go? And my dryer? Man. The landlord’s going to be pissed.”

From there, the next couple of hours could have been spent trying to figure out how I managed to go five months with an oversight of that magnitude. I may, occasionally, be clueless, usually in relation to a girl or some girl activity, but even I have a limit to my cluelessness. I hope.

So I’d like to have that, first and foremost. Secondly, I’d also like to have a roommate. Which seems to go against everything I’ve done in the last couple of years. Maybe I’m finally getting away from being secluded and doing everything myself. Or, I’m just getting cheap.

For the record, I’m moving upstairs. A great distance to traverse, I know, but some hardships must be made in the quest for a washer and dryer in my apartment.