Four years ago I moved into a lovely one bedroom-plus loft apartment in Hollywood that was absolutely perfect for me. It had a small but functional kitchen, a simple living room/dining room combination, a cute little bedroom and a small upstairs loft, which was just right for my office.
It was great!
Two and a half years later I got married and my husband (and my husband’s large piles of crap) moved in. Closet space had to be ceded to David’s work shirts. The dining area filled up with newly acquired wedding china, and a chunk of shelf space was lost to a sizable replica of the Millenium Falcon.
Sure, things were a bit tighter! But we were happy honeymooners – and we made it work.
The next September a certain Snoodie-butt arrived. And his systematic takeover began.
Our bedroom became a nursery and our lovely wedding china went back into boxes destined for the storage unit. My office was wedged into the small corner behind the dining room table that had been vacated by the china. David and I lugged our mattress upstairs to make the stuffy and cramped loft our bedroom.
Over the next several weeks, our rapidly shrinking apartment started to accumulate an endless supply of enormous plastic baby items.
By the time the Snood was three-months-old the apartment was functioning as a giant and inescapable game of JENGA.
A decision to retrieve or move almost any item in the place now had to be weighed carefully against the likelihood that the resulting debris avalanche might actually kill us all.
Did I mention the infestation of roaches? It was truly grim.
But then, just as things were beginning to look darkest, a stunning ray of hope appeared in the form of our crumbling national economy.
A thousand thanks, enduring American addiction to living beyond one’s means!
Danke Schoen tanking home values!
Tip of the hat to ye predatory lenders!
It is thanks to all of you that David and I were finally able to afford our first home.
It is an adorable two-bedroom gem delightfully wedged between a smog-check place and a used car dealership with no closet space, what our realtor refers to as an "antique smell," and a few outstanding permit issues – but it’s OURS ALL OURS!!!
Now all that’s left to do is to figure out how to lug our enormous piles of crap from our overstuffed apartment into our bare new home!
The blog is back and all-new next Wednesday with details of the move. We budgeted exactly $146 dollars for the entire endeavor. We have carefully selected a crack team of movers made up entirely of two friends who owe my husband moving favors, one jet-lagged 8-month-old Snood, and one high school kid whose senior prom should wrap up about 5am the night before.
What could possibly go wrong?
Stay tuned for further details!