A perpendicular learning curve is like walking into a wall
Yes! Negotiations are over! The document is signed, we’re making the transition, and thus begins a new Pax Divorcea, full of sweetness and light and cupcakes for everyone!
As freakin’ if.
The first thing I have to admit here, before God and country and blogosphere and ex-wife, is that I am a big, fat jackass. I blame New York City, which infuses you with a false sense of superiority over anyone who doesn’t have the stomach to forge an existence in the urban jungle. When I knew we were moving, I figured finding suitable housing in Ann Arbor would be a piece of cake. It’s just a college town, right? Thirty-six thousand students figure it out every year!
Right after we signed, I took the boys to New England for an extended family tour while Moxie headed west to, among other things, look for rental housing for me. This was a bad idea, because:
- REVELATION 1: Ann Arbor is lovely, and people like it here. Renewal rates in apartment complexes are ~20 percentage points higher than normal.
- REVELATION 2: Housing is challenging here, because several houses are in foreclosure and therefore can’t be rented. Which also has a lot to do with REVELATION 1.
- REVELATION 3: Landlords aren’t so hot to rent to you if 1) you don’t work full-time, and 2) they haven’t met you. And my line of work is something you have to explain, in person, so they know you’re a normal person who won’t pull a Carter Hayes on their property.
I know: To most people who live in the real world, this isn’t all that revelatory. But to me, a 20-year renter in the soot-filled amusement park of Manhattan, it’s a cold pop in the jaw.
Amid the scrambling and Realty Miasma, I was able to speak at BlogHer11 on a panel about blogging and relationships. And on the way to the airport, Moxie and I spent an hour talking about easements, and Orangeburg tile, and the lifespans of roofs and furnaces. I am truly down the Rabbit Hole.