Son Steve signed papers yesterday for his very first apartment. Brings back fond memories of my apartment days:
The drug dealers who lived upstairs. Every day at 4pm, the lines started. People drove up. Went upstairs. Stayed for two minutes. Down the stairs. Drove away. This went on for about and hour and a half. Fun.
The Jewish neighborhood we once lived in. Beautiful apartment. Lovely people. Lone Christmas tree. They tolerated us.
The train tracks running next to my building. They were so high, we didn’t know they were there until after we moved in. Everyday at 2pm, I ran and grabbed my good vases so they wouldn’t fall and break. It could have been worse. It could have been 2am.
The community parties. Now, those were fun. Actually got to meet other up and coming young professionals in a relaxed atmosphere. After about an hour, everyone got drunk and threw each other into the pool. Yep, that was fun.
So. He signed the papers. Now my husband and I get to move him. Wonder how long that will take….
standard ishue--Katie 
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