Not that I'm looking for that right now, mind you.
I've settled in yet another borough - so far, so good. One of the X's roommates also has a lease on a place out here, and no one's in the place (long story), so I'm helping him out for a month by subletting, and he in turn is saving my ass by giving me a place to live.
The place is cool. I have my own room, which is a nice change from the living room I was sleeping in, and the two guys who are here are very friendly. It's been a long time since I've lived with guys. That sounds like a weird statement, but it's true - it's been something like 3 1/2 years. Nice to have roommates who are just as crazy about sports as I am.
Went to the old Brooklyn apartment yesterday evening to collect the last of my things. Looking around that place, I realized that it was best that I go. The place is filthy, that kind of years-old grime that is almost impossible to scrub away; the cabinets are falling apart; the roof is leaking; the building is in need of a facelift.
And, most importantly, I was never comfortable there. Sure, I loved the neighborhood, and my friends were nearby, but the place itself never won me over. (Part of that might have been influenced by the crazy cats I was living with.) At least here I feel at ease, relaxed. Home. And part of me is excited to come back here in January and find a place of my own, either by myself or with a roommate. If I actually end up back here next year, that is.
My iPod looks like it's ready, so I'm going to try and load my music onto this computer. Wish me luck...