Friday, January 15, 2010


I spent the night in my apartment in the city last night, the first time in a couple of weeks I've slept here. I had to come into town for a co-op board meeting, and tonight I'd planned to have dinner with some friends -- Dave was even going to join us -- but the host cancelled at the last minute, citing illness. So I'll just kill some time doing photography today before heading back to New Jersey.

It's interesting how lifeless my apartment seems now. It doesn't even seem like mine, I've so thoroughly relocated in my head. At the same time, I still have some fear about selling it. I guess that just seems like such a final step.

It's a necessary one, though. Supporting this place when no one lives here is a ridiculously expensive proposition, and I don't want the headaches and drama of being a landlord. My upstairs neighbor just sold her place for what would be a healthy profit, should I get the same price. So that's encouraging.

But make no mistake -- it's scary! It's not that I have any doubts about Dave or our stability -- it's just the continuing realization that indeed, this stage of my life seems to be over.

(Photo: Some seed pods that I keep on my coffee table, and formerly kept on my desk at work. They're from an Ear Tree; I picked them up near my friend Lynn's house in Tampa in the mid-'90s.)


  1. It must be difficult to give us this last vestige of your life in the city. But it doesn't seem to have much appeal for you now that you've mentally moved on. I'd sell it before the real estate market does something unpredictable, especially if you stand to make a healthy profit now. Bank the money as a travel fund or as the way to get started in the future on another place that belongs to you. Wow! A lot has changed in your life in just the span of one year.

  2. You've moved in your head and your heart. Sell the apartment! Oh yeah.

  3. Isn't it strange to go back and spend time in a place that was once your home? When I've done that, what has hit me is not that the space has changed (even sans furniture and personal belongings), but how much I have changed...


  4. It is scary to make a change - good change and bad change. I read somewhere that things like getting a promotion and losing a job are equal in terms of stress (the same for other things like marriage/divorce) so there is going to be some of this.

    The hardest part sometimes is just making up your mind about it. Once you do that then it probably won't seem so scary.

  5. We were landlords for many years after vacating the city for suburbia -- and it was fine. It was easy to find good tenants since so many people applied, and we hired an agent to deal directly with the tenants when there was a problem, since no problems ever came up, we eventually just dealt with the tenants directly. When we finally decided to sell, the tenants (two guys in the music industry) were ready to move on anyway. At least try renting before selling. Selling is so final, ( yes we still regret selling our place at times... ) and the market is not seller friendly right now. Please at least consider renting it-- you may be pleasantly surprised that there are many many many very nice tenants out there.

  6. It's really weird when you are in your old neighborhood after, say, twenty years. The bones are still the same, vaguely familiar, but things have changed, moved on, progressed... even if your memories haven't.