Yesterday when we kissed goodbye (read: I squealed annoyedly from the shower as James left the apartment door to hang wide open while he put on his snow boots), James and I made plans to meet our new landlord at the corner Starbucks on some faraway Upper West Side block to sign our new lease. Over the weekend we found a one-bedroom apartment on the 5th floor of a beautiful building just blocks away from our current place with views of the neighborhood and more sunlight than I’ve maybe ever seen in a New York apartment. I’ll spare you the plans I had for the beautiful picture rail and foot-deep windowsills.
Some things are apparently not meant to be, and at 5:00 pm we received a call saying that our lease signing had been cancelled and the apartment would be rented to a tenant currently living in the building instead.
It’s a cruel, cruel rental world, friends. (There’s the much sadder story of our nephew’s babysitter who was scammed (yes, literally) out of her first month’s rent and security on Saturday, but I might breakdown if I type that out here).
So. There’s never been a better time to focus instead on our coping skills. Well, mine anyway. Lots more about the tiny abode including NEVER SEEN BEFORE photos, over on Remodelista.