It’s my place!

I have keys and I have a phone. Now all I have to do is get ME and MY STUFF over across town and I’ll be all set.

Why haven’t my belong­ings just mag­i­cal­ly jumped into their box­es? Hey, get with it! I don’t want to be doing this at the last minute!

Maybe this is just a part of rent­ing a nice place, but I’ve nev­er lived in a place in SF with so much respon­si­bil­i­ty put on the renter. There’s stuff in the lease agree­ment that I did­n’t even think was legal in SF (ten­ants pay for water and garbage and repairs under $100). I’m also a lit­tle bit skeered about liv­ing in a build­ing that is new enough that there’s no rent con­trol. What hap­pens if there’s anoth­er dot­com boom?

Oh yeah, note to self: if there’s anoth­er dot­com boom, this time try to get fab­u­lous­ly wealthy.

(Open Up Your) Filthy Heart (to Me)—Shriek­back