Believe it or not, Mike and I have been in our tiny, 660-square foot Chicago apartment for almost one year. It's so hard to believe that one year ago, we were schlepping our crap up 31 flights in what was nearly the end or our relationship. What is it about moving that sucks so bad? It could have something to do with the fact that you don't think you have a lot of stuff until you have to pack it up and move it up/down a flight/or flights of stairs. It could have something to do with the fact that your couch is suddenly 900 pounds and doesn't fit through any standard size doors. It could also do with the fact that after you move all your crap, you realize the hard work has just started, because now you have to find room for all your shoes.
Today we got a notice from our building that our lease is almost up, and we can choose to re-sign if we want. The bad news is that the move-in special we got 10 months ago that created cheaper rent (they called it a move-in special, I call it "recession delight") is now over, so our rent will jump to $1922 a month. What? That's a year people, not what we should be paying for a closet.
Mike and I most likely move to Lincoln Park where the rent is a little cheaper and we might be able to have more than one bedroom. (Holla!) So now the debate is whether or not to hire movers. I say yes to saving our marriage, but Mike says no, saying that we don't have all that much stuff. Need I remind him that moving out of a high-rise with people trying to steal your service elevator puts Jeannie in her unhappy place, and therefore she gets called a "Bitchy White Woman." (See October 5, 2009 post.)