Decisions Decisions
I wrote a few weeks ago about my annual contemplation of whether to renew my lease for another year. I don’t want to make the decision lightly or assume that landing in this place four years ago means it was the place I was meant to stay indefinitely.
Each year prior, the decision wasn’t hard to make. I’d spend a few days contemplating the pros and cons, but the tumultuous years I’d previously gone through, had my strongest longings invested in staying put. Sinking roots into one place, as much as is possible for a renter.
But this year the increase in rent was steep and gave me more to consider, not just whether I could manage it or not, but the biggest question driving my search “Is this really where I want to live for that much in rent?”
Among the priority considerations are proximity to my grandchildren and family, enough space to set up a studio space to work, and being mindful of my need to avoid airborne toxins, especially from hidden spaces with mold—which is shockingly difficult to find in rental properties.
I don’t want to spend hours circling the block looking for a place to park, but there is always that tantalizing possibility hanging over my head that a move to the city (Chicago) would bring me closer to the artists and communities I want to be more involved with.
Yesterday I looked at a place that left me feeling so deflated that I knew it was time to give up. I promised myself that I’d only consider moving if I found a place I felt wildly excited about and gave myself yesterdays viewings as a deadline to make a decision.
And of course, just as I determined to stay put another year, I peeked at the ads “just one more time” and found a listing for a place that has me excited and dreaming all manner of dreams. The ad required an email introduction before scheduling an appointment, so now I’m in a holding pattern again waiting for the landlord to respond. And if this one doesn’t pan out, my searching is done. I swear.
Decisions decisions . . .