I love my apartment and I love my roommate aka my cousin. But I would also love to live in Manhattan.
Which, I did for one year. In something akin to a flophouse. Long story that I will tell later.
Now the World Church of Assimilation, for whom I work, has an apartment available in a really great part of town for $800 per month. That, by Manhattan standards, is cheap, though I'm not sure I could afford it. If I weren't in debt up to my nostrils, I probably could, but...
The question is always "Will it be worth it?" unless of course the question is "Was it worth it?" You just never know with these things.
Not that I'm even seriously considering moving--which, having done that so much over the years is part of the reason why I'm up to the nostrils--but it would be fabulous to be sooo close to work and to live in such a nice area that is in Manhattan but somewhat removed from all that is bad about Manhattan.
"Where do I belong?" is another question that pertains not only to housing but to living life itself.
Next: the new mental disorder I'm going through that's really scaring me.
P.S. I started The Patch today. I hope I can stay off those damn cigarettes this time for good.