Moving? It’s decision day

So I’ve been putting off com­mit­ting, but today is the last week­day before it turns into next month, so if I’m going to give notice to my land­lord this month, it has to be now.

Not this very minute, but yeah, today. I have to call my land­lord today any­how to tell her about the leak in the roof, so I’m tempt­ed to just hit her with the double-whammy.

I’m sick of com­mut­ing. I’m start­ing to get down­right tired of liv­ing out here in the boonies of San Fran­cis­co (dra­cun­cu­lus calls where I live “Daly City” even though the City lim­its aren’t for anoth­er mile).

I’m a lit­tle con­cerned that maybe I’m tempt­ed to move just because I don’t want to clean the apart­ment and would rather start fresh. It would be real­ly sweet to have more space to work with, and ample space to put my stuff. My resources are not infi­nite, how­ev­er, and mov­ing now will make March and April pret­ty tight months.

I live in a neigh­bor­hood where guys wear bag­gy clothes and shout at each oth­er on the street cor­ner and hold their gir­friend’s heads in some sort of vice-grip (a ham­mer­lock?) to show own­er­ship. I’m con­sid­er­ing a move to a neigh­bor­hood where peo­ple dri­ve their SUVs around and tourists wan­der around try­ing to find Ghi­rardel­li Square. Where pub­lic dis­plays of affec­tion are dis­gust­ing for their sap­pi­ness, not for their indis­tin­guisha­bil­i­ty from an act of vio­lence. Where the near­by gro­cery store is world-famous sin­gles pick-up spot. Where my dis­trict super­vi­sor would be Michela Alioto-Pier or Aaron Peskin instead of Ger­ar­do San­doval. OK, I’m not sure that last part is a bonus, but what the hell.

It would be nice to have friends over and be able to show them some­thing oth­er than a hole in the wall look­ing out at a liquor store. I’d rather take them up on the roof and show them the Gold­en Gate Bridge. It’d be real nice to live some­where oth­er than a place I came to escape home­less­ness while my life was in a breakup-induced tailspin.

On the oth­er hand, we’re talk­ing about dou­bling or dou­bling and a half my cur­rent rent. Ouch. Ouch, Ouch, Ouch.

Wail—Mighty Pur­ple