One Year Down In Our Love Nest

One year ago this week we moved into our current apartment.  And in order to get it, we took a big risk.  We broke our lease at the time with no tenant set up to take over, applied for a new apartment and if it didn’t work out would have been stuck with two rent payments for 3 months.  We were acting…crazy.  It’s very unlike Mr. Dr. to allow this type of behavior but I was convincing and I wholeheartedly believed it was destined to be our new home.  We did all we could to make the stars align to get this apartment: the price was right, the location was right and the place felt like a real home the minute I walked in.  Our little nest is bright, welcoming and the most spacious for us so far (I know that’s not saying a lot but it means a lot).

Our Home

The Living Room of Our Home

I still can’t believe it’s ours.  But with every risk comes a story so here is ours.  Secret.  I sneakily scouted this apartment with Mr. Dr. having no clue.  We had talked tipsily discussed trying to get out of our apartment at the time.  Um I think we had one brief conversation over drinks and that’s it.  But breaking a lease here is not a great idea because you get stuck with the rent until the lease is up unless you find someone to resign a new lease or sublet (which not all apartments even allow).  The management companies don’t search hard for a new tenant because they know you are on the hook for rent until your term is done so you have to work your butt off to try to find someone.  So we pretty much ruled it out and chalked it up to just a nice passing thought.  Well Mr. Dr. did.  Mrs. Dr. thrives on a challenge and so I started my engines and began my mission.

Things were a little rough.  I was having a difficult time.  Ironic because we were newlyweds which was awesome.  But then all of the sudden it was intern year of residency, I was switching jobs, I had serious lack of time with Mr. Dr. on regular days (and holidays) and then on top of that we were living in an apartment that could have been mistaken for a basement most of the day it was so dark.  I constantly felt claustrophobic.  I feel bad downing it because it really was a cute little apartment in a great central spot and we got a great deal on it.  Overall, I just knew it wasn’t the place for us.  At the time, we made it work but it was small and cramped and had two little windows that didn’t give much light.

Our bedroom window was tucked away on the side of one of the building’s alcoves.  The pro was that it was super duper quiet which in NYC is a luxury.  The con was that I used to wake up to pigeons fighting on my outside window sill.  I’m not kidding.  First off, I hate pigeons and these ones were pecking at each other constantly.  I initially thought they were trying to makeout which would have been fine.  I don’t mind some featherly love.  Everyone has needs.  I even thought maybe we could become friends.  You know…they could be someone for me to talk to in my times of need.  But then when I saw one push the other off of his corner on the sill I freaked out and realized these were no normal pigeons.  These were angry pigeons.  So rather than pleasant little bluebirds chirping away in the morning to help me arise, I was having stare downs with angry, bitter pigeons that thought us tenants were simply intruders on their turf.  I quickly learned these weren’t my windows, these windows belonged to the creepy-eyed featherfucks that resided outside.

Add angry pigeons to an already dungeonesque living space to the recipe of an overly emotional female newlywed adjusting to residency and let me tell you…things were not pretty.  I had to get out.  Staying was not an option.  So I made some moves…sneakily.  I searched around online.  It was winter so the marketplace was quiet but all it takes…is one.  I saw the listing.  I called the number.  I saw the apartment that night.  I loved it.  I came home after seeing it and wrote “Our Future Apartment” on the top of the brochure and sat it on the coffee table for Mr. Dr. to see when he arrived home.  Naturally, he said I was crazy.  I told him I was determined.  He went and saw the apartment the next day.  He loved it.  We had to have it.  We concluded too many things would have to fall into place in order for it to happen.  We needed the right move-in date, we had to find new tenants, if we didn’t we were going to get stuck with double rent for months, we had to get approved by a condo board, we had to negotiate a price and we had to work out a budget and a plan to make it all work before someone took our future apartment.  Apartments go like hotcakes in this city.  It just wasn’t feasible.  But.I.was.determined.  I knew it the minute I saw it.  So…

We worked out a budget and a plan.  We negotiated the price.  We found new tenants to take over the lease at exactly the right month to have no double rent.  We got approved by the board.  The move-in date was perfect.  The plan worked.  it wasn’t easy but we did it.  And it was such a great feeling of accomplishment.

I cannot believe how fast the last year has gone but we signed a 2 year lease and I could not be happier we did.  #1 Because I love our apartment.  #2 Because we don’t have to move AGAIN for at least another full year.  I don’t know which reason holds a higher place in my standings.  All I know is that I’m happy we found a nice little love nest (sans pigeons) to call home…for now.

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