Every time I check my email my heart clenches up and when the page finishes loading I furiously scan the inbox, searching for my landlord's name. I only relax after I'm sure he hasn't emailed me. I'm not 100% convinced that my moving and breaking my lease due to the multiple shootings in my neighborhood will not end up with my landlord taking me to court, you see, as he wasn't particularly thrilled about the idea when I spoke to him on the phone last week.
His suggestion that I find new tenants for the unit myself was a good idea in theory, but in reality, it would be impossible for me to show the darling townhouse to some couple with a small child, lets say, and as I was pointing the separate bathtub, and the garbage disposal and various built-in's the unit possesses, not end with "and also people get KILLED IN FUCKING DRIVE-BY SHOOTINGS every so-often". I mean, what kind of person would I be if I didn't mention that to potential new tenants?...I'd be a landlord, that's who.
So I included all that in the email I sent him, which basically said "I don't want to get shot. I'm moving out. I'm not paying rent in December because I paid last month's rent when I moved in. Call my roommate with any questions. Later days", but just a tad more eloquently. I'm hoping to be moved into my brand-new, charming one bedroom by the end of this weekend, where-in I'll start posting about my brand-new, charming one bedroom problems that I'm sure will follow me, as that's how I roll, it seems.
The thought of living alone at this point, in a small, manageable space, with no fracking roommates driving me crazy, and having a nice landlord who plays drums (seriously, how awesome is that??) sounds better than I can even describe. This photo does a pretty good job of summing up my excitement: