I had a letter waiting for me when I got home today from my apartment complex. No, it wasn’t an apology letter for my lock getting changed without anyone telling me, because that’d be ridiculous. It was a reminder that my lease expires on 2/29/08, and an offer to renew my lease for either 6 months or (wait for it) 17 months. Ideally, I’ll find a new place closer to Minneapolis (or even in Minneapolis) when it’s moving time, but it not, it’s good to know I can renew this lease, since according to the paperwork this particular management company “strives to create well maintained affordable housing”.
It took a total of four people to help me paint my living room, dining room, and bedroom, and if I’m going to be moving, I should probably get started now. I know it’s going to take me a hell of a lot more time to cover these greens and blues in a beautiful white shade, and with my mastered skill of procrastinating, it means I’ll be painting the night before I move out. At least when I started painting, I either A) hadn’t purchased any furniture or B) had it all at my previous homestead. Either way, piling all of my current living room furniture in the middle of the room while I do some painting does not sound fun to me. At all.
In fact, now that I think about it, I’m certain there’s light green paint on my carpet in more than one spot. Painting drop cloths? Not for me, I guess!
I’ll be renting again, because I have no bidness at all being responsible for my own home repairs. Since knowledge is power and all that jazz, I’m sure it’d be easier once I learned how to do things like install a ceiling fan (because I love them), but in the meantime, I’m on the hunt for an awesome apartment for an awesome price somewhere in the 612 area code. Unless, of course, one of you want to sell your home in exchange for knowing you’ll have done a great service to Riley and I.