Tag: moving

The Solution

Our story opens with me having decided to move up to a larger apartment in my current complex.  I had come to this decision while working with a financial planner and also on advice from my son who suggested “an interim solution“.

Finally the day came for me to put my plan into motion.  It was October 3, 2016, when I received a letter from the apartment management with a “Lease Renewal Offer”.  My current lease was going to expire on December 11 and the letter explained my options: a minimally increased rate for another 12 months in my one-bedroom, a more than $200 increase for a month-to-month rate, and a reminder that per my lease I am required to give 60 days notice if I’m planning to move out.  It was time to make my move.

On November 15, I went to the management office and talked to Lauren about renting a two-bedroom apartment.  She showed me the two floor plans that had two bedrooms. One plan had two bedrooms that share the same bathroom and the other plan had a main bedroom with an en suite bathroom and a second bedroom and separate bathroom.  I chose the one with the en suite bathroom.  I wrote the rent for each on the page with the floor plan I had chosen along with notes about transfer fees, apartment number, and the date it would be available.  And most importantly the date of this conversation.

Then on Thursday, November 17, I submitted a move-out letter stating my intention to move to a larger apartment within the complex.  The next Monday I went to the management office to settle which apartment and find out the next steps.  But when I walked in I immediatley noticed that something was different, wrong.  The doors to the two managers’ offices were closed.  No one was sitting at the two desks outside the offices.  It was very quiet; no music; some lights were off.  Then a young woman I recognized came out and asked if she could help me.  I told her why I was there for and we sat down at one of the desks.

After I explained the situation and which apartment I wanted and how much rent I had been told I would be charged, she took the paper and went in the back.  When she returned she said the rent would be about $200 more.  I explained that I had been in on November 15 and pointed to the date on the floor plan.  I was   told the rent would be this amount and I showed her on my paper where I had written the amount.  She left again and this time a man came out with her; his name was Kenny.  I had never seen him there before but he acted as if he was in charge.  “Strange”, I thought, “but ok, I’ll go with it.”

I explained to Kenny everything I had explained to the young woman and he agreed to the rent.  Next step was sending me a lease to reveiw which they would do in the next few days.  When the lease came in my email, I reviewed it.   It was all as expected except for the rent which again was the higher rent.  I went back to the office with all my papers in hand and this time the managers’ offices were open, people were sitting at the desks outside and the lights and music were on.  Now this was normal except I didn’t recognize anyone.  A young man, Saia, sitting at one of the desks, asked if he could help me and I explained the situation to him.  He pulled my lease up on his computer and left.  In a few minutes, both he and Kenny came out.  He told Saia to honor the cheaper rent.  He told me they would send another lease for me to review.

It was all so weird, these new people and all these mistakes with the rent.  I commented to Saia that there were so many new people.  It was then that I found out the apartment complex had been sold to a new company, Greystar.  It all became clear.  But so odd that the sale and change in management hadn’t been announced to the residents.

A few days later I received the final lease for me to sign.  I reviewed the pertinent details like how much rent.  Again it was the higher rent.  I was so frustrated and wondered if they were trying to pull one over on me.  So I called Saia and told him about the discrepancy in the rent.  I did not tell him about my ugly suspicions.  He apologized all over the place and promised to correct the lease and send it to me that day.  He did; it was correct; I signed it.  Finally, my new apartment was all ready to go.  It was going to be repainted so it would be like new, I hoped.  I was very excited.  It was December 20—Merry Christmas to me!  I could start moving in on January 6—Happy New Year to me!

I began planning the move and packing.  My new apartment was in the same building, same floor—second—but off a different breezeway.  So there was going to be lots of stair climbing—nineteen steps up and nineteen steps down. (I frequently counted them when I carried my groceries in.)  Two of my sons and my daughter-in-law were going to help with the move.  Fortunately, my daughter-in-law worked for an office furniture distributor so she got one of their mover guys to help with the furniture.  I did all the packing.  On moving day everything was ready to go.

The weather on moving day was beautiful: sunny skies, rather chilly breeze, no humidity.  Perfect for stair climbing.  The move went very quickly and smoothly.  It was amazing, and a little scary, to watch the professional mover pick up my couch—a small, but rather heavy couch—and walk down a flight of stairs and then up a flight of stairs with it on his back.  He was one strong guy!  We could not have done it without him.  No way!

Once all the big stuff was moved, I told everyone I would finish up the small, light stuff and let them all go.  That afternoon, as I walked back and forth from apartment to apartment, down stairs and up stairs and then up stairs and down stairs over and over, I had a lot of time to think.  I remembered when I had sub-let and how easy that process was.  I simply took over someone else’s lease.  Of course, I had to prove I was financially able to pay the rent but that’s all.  No negotiation or fees; just move in.  Then I rehearsed the process of renting my new apartment: all the back and forth over the rent and how I had to stay on top of it or I could have ended up paying more rent than necessary.  I remembered how at first I was tempted to just accept the higher rent.  And realized that’s what the old Kay would have done instead of standing up for herself.  Wow, I really had come a long way.  I frequently thought I had become stronger, more independent but here was proof.  Tears came to my eyes.  I was simply astounded.

Around this time, I was dating a man named Berne.  I confessed to him that I was feeling nostalgic about my one-bedroom apartment.  It was the first place I had ever lived on my own and the first place I had picked out on my own, both the city and apartment.  The move was a momentous event in my life.  Now I was leaving behind a lot of adventures, tears, joy and all the growing up I did in that little apartment.  While I was excited about moving on to a bigger place, I told him, I was also sad to be leaving a place that had sheltered me through the last year and half.  He suggested writing a letter to my apartment expressing all these emotions and saying good-bye.  So after I had cleaned it, I sat on the floor in that special little one-bedroom apartment with my journal and wrote a letter.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Dear Apartment,

This my last time to be here as an inhabitant.  One more load is stacked by the door ready to go to my new place.  I am tired and sore and stiff, way past ready to end moving.  But I couldn’t move on without telling you what you have meant to me.  You helped me grow up, become independent.  You’ve seen me cry, be lonely, be happy, be regretful, even think about going back to my old life.  You saw me grow out my grey, cut my hair short and be happy about it.  In your kitchen my habits became those of a singe person.  I started out cooking real meals with real recipes and slowly turned to canned soup and single serve recipes that I made up as needed.  I learned how to handle my finances and grow efficient in money matters.  I’ve contemplated and made lots of decisions for good or bad within your walls.  Since Augurst 14, 2015, I’ve been sheltered by you and grateful every day that I had you to call home, a warm, safe place.  So today I cleaned you up one last time.  I hope you felt loved as I did so.  I will never forget you.  So now I’m moving or have moved to a 2 bed 2 bath place just across the building.  I’ll still see you and think about you.  I hope someone deserving of you moves in, someone who will take care of you and appreciate you.  So this day is bittersweet.  Good-bye is sad but I feel confident I’m moving on as I need to.  You were my  “college” apartment, just left home figuring out life.  Now it’s time for a grown up place.  Thanks for helping me get to this place.  You’re the best, little apartment. You will always be a part of me.

Love,

Kay

Movin’ on up,

Woodpile Kitty ATX

An Interim Solution

In one of my first posts since re-starting my blog, My ATX Story, I described how I decided to move to Austin in 2015. This post picks up with me living in a one-bedroom apartment that I had first sub-leased and then quickly leased for another year.

After living in a 900-square-foot apartment for a year, I had gotten a little claustrophobic and yearned to spread out a bit more. Not that I had a lot of stuff to spread out. I didn’t take much with me when I moved from the house I had when I was married and I hadn’t collected a lot of stuff since then either. For one reason, I didn’t have the space to put a lot of things. But more than that, I just don’t like having a lot of stuff to buy, care for and store. But more space would be nice especially so I could have friends and family over and also for a change of scenery even if I was only moving from one room to another.

With the stuff I did have the one-bedroom was cramped. My granddaughter’s toys were all over the place; my desk and dining table filled the dining room that was really more like a cove; my bedroom was shared with Emy’s pack ‘n’ play. I simply needed more room. I was an adult woman after all. I wanted to live like an adult, not a college student. So I started toying with the idea of buying a house. Just toying. Finances put a damper on my toying. And the reality of maintenance. At the apartment all I had to do was place a service request online and someone came pretty quickly to take care of whatever problem I was having (that is a problem with my apartment, not the rest of my life which could have used some maintenance as well). I looked around a little at houses in neighborhoods that were in the south Austin part of town where my apartment complex was. But the thoughts and what-ifs swirled in my head.

The most overwhelming question I had was could I afford a house. After all I was going to buy a house in Austin and that’s not a cheap proposition. I needed help.

Through my DivorceCare class I had access to financial planning help that was free of charge. This isn’t a regular DivorceCare offering, but the leaders of my group knew a retired financial planner named Paul whose purpose in retirement was to offer financial planning and advice to anyone who needed it. And when you’re getting a divorce, you definitely need financial advice. So I called him and made an appointment. I was nervous because I don’t understand finances and accounting very well. And, at that point in my divorced life, I didn’t feel confident that I understood what my resources were or how to manage them or almost anything else about them. Oh, sure I knew the amounts in my accounts but I needed help to look into the future. Admitting that now is embarrassing. But that’s the truth of it. I was afraid of the future and making a bad decision and suffering because of it.

My first meeting with Paul was over the phone because he was in Michigan spending the summer away from hot Texas. Our conversation was like a doctor taking my medical history. He asked a lot of questions, some I could answer and some, sadly, I could not. He set another meeting. But this time he wanted me to prepare a budget. Yikes! How do I do that? I panicked, of course. Then I settled down and got out my bank statements, credit card statements, and opened Excel. And started entering numbers into categories. A couple of weeks and a lot of sweat later, I gathered up my budget and met with Paul in person. He had some suggestions and helped me analyze the budget. I went home and worked on it again. A couple of more weeks and we had another meeting. This time my budget was acceptable and realistic and told a story that would probably have a happy ending. I was not destitute or an idiot or kidding myself. I had a good idea where I stood financially. I was still afraid of the future and making a bad decision and suffering because of it. But I was on the way to understanding and had some confidence that I had the ability to get my financial house in order or, at least, presentable.

I told Paul I was thinking about buying a house. He asked very intelligent questions–he really was good at the question thing–like where did I want this house to be and what price range. I told him in south Austin where I was currently living and about $250,000. He gave me another assignment: Make a budget for a $250,000 house and come back and see me in 2 weeks. Gulp! Oh, my. Now the truth will be revealed.

During this time, I announced to my kids and close friends that I was thinking about buying a house. Everyone was supportive and understood why I wanted a bigger, more permanent place. Some offered ideas of where to look and what to look for. But all the while in the back of my mind were the same questions. Am I ready for the financial responsibility and the maintenance that a house would require? Could I find, purchase, and care for a house on my own? I tried not to dwell on all those questions. I just kept moving forward and working on my budget.

Finally one day I was talking with my oldest son and I came clean about my concerns and fears. He patiently listened. When I was finished with my litany, he said, “Mom, it sounds like you aren’t ready to make the commitment. And that’s ok. You don’t have to buy a house right now. Maybe you should just consider an interim solution. A bigger place but not a purchase. Maybe rent a house or a bigger apartment.”

An interim solution. The perfect thing. Yes, that’s what I needed. Just a move to something a bigger but without the big financial commitment. So I got to work on another budget, this one for a two-bedroom apartment in my same complex. Suddenly it was easier to think about my next move. The pressure was off. Just an interim solution. I didn’t need to come up with the final solution to my housing needs. Just the next step. Whew!

At my next meeting with Paul, I presented both budgets and explained to him about the interim solution. As it turned out I could afford either the house or the apartment. When I got finished talking about all the various points of either solution, Paul asked me what I thought was the best alternative. That was one thing I liked about working with Paul; he never told me what to do, he let me figure it out on my own. He was my safety net. I announced that I was going with the two-bedroom apartment. He got a big grin on his face and said, “That’s the perfect decision. That’s exactly what I would advise.” I felt like I had gotten an A+++ on my end of the semester project! Wow, I made a good decision all on my own. Yes, I had a little help from my friends, but the decision was all mine.

I left that meeting with Paul without scheduling a follow up. He said if I needed to talk to him just give him a call. I was elated when I left that day. I felt like a real adult. Now, time to talk to the apartment management and get my new place nailed down.

Moving’ on up!

Woodpile Kitty ATX