The latest in my overly-long apartment saga is that the apartment won't be ready* on August 15, which is the date on the lease that we signed and, not coincidentally, the date by which the broker promised it would be done. We signed the lease on July 16. I think a month should have been enough time to fix up the apartment. I think this was a problem caused by lack of communication.
Anyway, the upshot is that I am bumming housing off of friends and relatives for one more week than planned. Two weeks without a real home seemed so doable. Now, three weeks sounds much less palatable. See this post for the original schedule. Also, my parents were supposed to stay with me starting on August 22. Now, that's obviously not happening.
I was told on Monday that the apartment would not be ready by August 15, and that they didn't know when it would be ready. August 20? August 22? September 1? Who knew?
As of yesterday, the word is, hopefully-but-no-promises, August 22.
I want to write more about this whole housing and moving thing, but I think it has to be when I am settled and have the room of one's own that Virginia Woolf so astutely points out is necessary to write.
Note to self: At some point, I would like to blog about the crumbling New York City infrastructure and why we lose Internet access at work every time it rains. This week, I found myself writing e-mails in Outlook, printing them up, and faxing them to people. I used to be quite fax-illiterate--no longer! (Don't press "9" for an outside line, do put all the pages in face up.)
And now that my shoes and pants are finally dry, I must go back out into the rain.
* Ready = up to code and with a new kitchen and bathroom. I think that the previous tenant must have lived there for 30-50 years. It looked like the kitchen had its original cabinets--which would have been gorgeous if they had been stripped, sanded, and refinished, but will instead be ripped out and replaced with something faker containing more plastic. The bathtub was worn through to black. I counted at least three ceiling leaks. The window sills were crumbling where the air-conditioners. The electrical work was crazy--wires plugged into outlets that then snaked out through small holes in the wall to other rooms. Etc. It basically needed a lot of work.
I go through phases where I update that sidebar and phases where I completely forget to. At the moment, anything in the "What I'm Reading" section is probably something I'm still in the middle of, having started reading it at least six months ago. Some I go back to more often than others.
What I'm *really* reading is not-very-literary fiction. Not romance novels--either "chick lit" or whatever else crosses my path that's cheap or free. (Right now, I'm working my way through 5 or 6 books that my roommate was getting rid of. Random, eclectic assortment of fiction.)