Reasons this is good:
1.) Hardwood floors, which I greatly prefer.
2.) Better light.
3.) Apartment is not partially set into a berm, therefore, I will see fewer bugs.
3a.) Apartment is farther away from the dumpsters, therefore, I will have fewer encounters with mice and their ... evidence.
4.) Apartment has a secure mailbox in the expected place (mine does not), therefore, I will actually receive my mail regularly.
5.) My rent will go down by about $90.
6.) This section of the community is not slated to be torn down, so I won't have to move again in a year's time. I can just renew my lease and relax.
7.) The building is set far enough away from the highway and the train tracks, so I can't really hear either.
Reasons this is bad:
1.) Oh my GOD, the closets in this apartment are amazing. AMAZING I TELL YOU. I will simply have to relearn how to creatively pack things.
I think the incentive to move is obvious.
I will have three days to transfer my stuff across a couple of divided highways (three lanes in each direction). I am still trying to figure out how, exactly, I plan on doing this. I have no problem with making thousands of trips for the small things, but getting the furniture over puzzles me exceedingly. I may be calling a few of you up and hoping for a scheduling miracle.
As if to underscore why I am moving, I captured my first mouse tonight.
_rosiel_ and I had noticed evidence of mice when I first moved in, back in August. I called up the main office. They sent a fellow out, who blocked up holes behind the stove. I also received a large number of sticky traps from him, which I placed in various corners of the apartment. (It looks tacky, but they help.) Up until today, I had only succeeded in stopping fat crickets, spiders and other minute buggies (oddly enough, not the centipedes ... they seemed to be smarter). As I was putzing around after dinner, I decided to thin out my books a little so I'd have fewer to move (again). I stepped towards a pile kept on a shelf in the dining area. It took me a second to realize that the sticky trap wasn't where I put it. In fact, there was something on it, something ... large. I turned on the light, and lo, there was Jerry, completely and utterly stuck.
Now, many of you know I have a fondness for some of the little dudes in this world (the ones who do not bite, harass, or otherwise gross me out). I save any earthworms I find on the sidewalk or pavement, for example (as a small child I once took on a construction company for their sake). My mother has spent years attempting to convince me that I bear no personal responsibility for saving the world, that one less earthworm or drop of water in the drain is not going to be the End of All Things. Her efforts haven't worked so far.
It moved. I shrieked. I wasn't expecting to actually see a rodent, much less see it attempt to free itself. The "OMG SAVE THE POOR SMALL THINGS" reflex immediately kicked in, and I had to phone home before I was able to take the sticky trap and its occupant out to the dumpster. I still wanted to find a way to pry it loose, but I knew I would probably kill the mouse with such efforts, and it might bite me for my troubles anyway. I tossed it in. I hope that it is dead by now.
Perhaps this is karma paying back for some group of mice building a nest in my car's air filter.
I never experienced mice making a home out of my vehicle's innards before, even though it has been parked outside for years. My theory is this: in Pittsburgh, I lived relatively close to a neighborhood that lost its money in the race to the suburbs, and it hasn't recovered since. The location is known to have a large population of feral cats ...