Well, it’s about that time again. Time to start packing up all the crap that has accumulated throughout the year and putting it in boxes. Time to pull up whatever tiny roots have managed to sprout and transplant in some other neighborhood. As someone who has moved at least once a year for the last decade, I gotta tell ya, I am OVER IT. Packing an apartment up to move has to one of the most heinously grown up tasks that exists and I hate it violently. Possibly the only grown up chore I hate more than packing is actually finding a new apartment.
If you’ve never tried to find an apartment in NYC, there is nothing I can possibly tell you to illustrate how awful it is. If you’re in the same boat as me, whether for the first time or as a seasoned New Yorker, well, Godspeed. Apartment hunting in NYC is a special level of hell reserved for serious masochists. The only thing that makes it at all worthwhile is that once it is over, you get to wake up every day in the greatest city in the world. Whether you end up in an affordable place in the Far Rockaways or an outrageously overpriced loft in Williamsburg, you still get to lay your head down every night in New York City. And that? That does not suck.
But still, if we could maybe cut down just a little on the bait and switch nonsense and crazy broker fees, well, that would be helpful.
Wish me luck, friends. The next six weeks could be rough.
grownupsforpretend 