Well, the Big Move Happened.
Content Warnings Galore:
Elderly Suicide
Mental Health Issues
Drug Use
Discussions of Euthanasia
Reading over my last post after I flat-out ghosted this blog thanks to emotional exhaustion, getting sick with Omnicron, and spending the last few months in a whirlwind not helped by the onset of perimenopause.
Catching C-19 Omicron
After three/four(?) years of soft isolation without going insane, meeting up with infection-conscious friends, and for the most part, being pretty boring, I caught C-19.
A week before Christmas 2023. Because why not? The worst part of the entire experience? I know the exact moment when I caught it.
Because someone decided to hack up a lung at dinner in a little spot in Mountlake Terrace, and I just happened to be sitting right behind him.
My friends weren’t in the aerosol spray zone; I was, and I knew something was wrong when I woke up a few days later with a scratchy throat. That was my body telling me that we were sick, and the next few days could go one of two ways: good or worse.
It got worse. With memories of the summer of the Kidney Infection still fresh, (oh, that happened and that summer, I learned if I sent a coworker a photo of my hospital intake bracelet, whatever situation was bad. ) and being reminded just how much I despise being sick living alone. I took steps to secure both groceries and meds and after canceling every social outing I was supposed to go to, I hunkered down.
Friends did try to help, but the sicker I got, the crankier I got, and the less I cared about “we can grab your groceries” when I’d have to send them a list and schedule the drop-off. I’d rather just pay Instacart to do it.
I tested positive for C19 a week later, and the rest of the month was spent between hot flashes, fevers, and spending a lot of time in my living room curled up in The Cuddle Pit, feeling like death warmed over.
I’d spend the first three weeks of 2024 still sick, absolutely exhausted, and realizing that I wished I had higher-touch friends because the crew I had… didn’t have the time or the proactivity just to come sit with me without having to hammer out logistics.
There were a lot of Youtube videos so the sounds of someone talking just felt like someone else was in the room with me. Which is how I found Jelloapocalyse and one of his secondary channels, Jello Plays Games.
Consequently how I realized that a) SoloSeattle would be strictly YouTube/Pinterest/blog (you’re here) and b) I could play video games without suffering from the cognitive load.
That and listening to Jello and his cadare of voice-acting pals was just… it was nice, okay? He’ll never know just how much hearing his friends interact with each other while I burned with a 102-degree fever made me feel a helluva lot less lonely. Parasocial issues aside, I’m grateful for his channels. Unfortunately, they couldn’t prepare me for The Letter.
The Letter
Yvonne, Ed’s business partner, called me on February 5, 2024 before she handed me a letter, both of us being very aware of what was supposed to happen on March 4th (consequently, why I wasn’t at Emerald City Comic Con helping friends with their booths). She handed me the letter the following day.
On the surface, Ed wanted to sell the building and he was hoping I could buy it (nope, I knew that building was one good earthquake from falling to pieces). And the letter would start that motion.
The letter told everyone that their leases were void after April 2024 and we had to vacate the building by April 30, 2024 at 10:00 pm. It lived in my purse for a while but I don’t think either of them realized how much that letter would backfire on them.
Embracing that Amenity Life
After my initial panic, I immediately began looking for apartments because I wanted to be out long before April and I knew I needed time to pack and set up logistics.
I also called my financial advisor, because moving is expensive.
But also provided me a reason to make a couple of upgrades I was itching to make anyway, so I spent two hours with said financial advisor figuring out just how much cash I could withdrawal from my IRA without killing myself or wrecking said IRA and still afford to move, purchase some new furniture, and have a little safety net for unexpected expenses.
We settled on a number and I settled on a budget for my next place.
I was looking at apartments every day for a solid two weeks, some days were multiple apartments. Grateful doesn’t express just how I felt about how flexible work was, because nobody blinked when I kept Chthulu hours.
Where I settled was not according to plan. The initial plan was to land a small “urban” (tiny) apartment and a work studio so I could just leave my car in a garage somewhere. Preferably close to one of my aerial yoga studio branches, but when I started putting more thought into it and one poor property manager not being quick enough with room dimensions, I also considered a live/work loft.
Why pay for two internet connections when I could just pay for one?
Why pay for two sets of utilities when I could just pay for one set?
My last ditch effort was looking at a live/work loft in a full-amenity building and hoping I’d be qualified and approved.
I toured a space on February 16, was approved by the 18th, and would have been packed, moved, and my flat cleaned up and repainted by March 27, 2024.
And no, I’m still not unpacked. That’s part of the project list.
