I've finally come to realize and accept that I'm fickle.
I hate the word. It sounds prissy and annoying and demanding and I don't think I'm any of those things (though I'm sure some folks would disagree).
But now that I'm preparing for my third move in the two-and-a-third years since I relocated to Shreveport-Bossier City (quite a trek of its own), I see that something might be a bit awry in my mind.
When I moved to the area, I settled into a perfectly nice apartment in a not-so-nice complex in Bossier City (I won't call names). Seven months later, post-Katrina and with a new, evacuee roommate in tow, I moved into a cute house in South Highlands.
All was well until some uninvited guests arrived (the kind that can scare a small dog) and my landlord was less than helpful, nor could he even muster up some sympathy (or pest control). After a few calls to city and state offices (rental laws are not on the side of renters in this state) and a large Terminex bill, I was on the move again.
Right now, I live in southeast Shreveport (I even get Southeast Voices) and quite frankly, I've started to hate it. The construction, the traffic, the fact that I can walk to Target faster than I can drive there, it all makes me crazy. My apartment is nice enough, I suppose, but getting where I need to go is a hassle at all hours except late a night and I'm tired of it. So I'm on the move again.
I'm trying to move to north Bossier City (I guess I'll get Bossier Voices). Yeah, it's trading traffic for traffic and it's not much cheaper than where I live now, but the Wal-Mart out there isn't as crazy and Target will be done soon and gas is a little cheaper and at least there's no construction waking me up at 6 a.m.
But the craziest thing is, now that I write it all out, I don't think I'm crazy (though I might still be a little fickle), the rental market here is just really lackluster.
Mediocre neighborhoods where you can hear the 18-wheelers careen down I-20 while you lay in your bed, rodents having their run of a poorly maintained house, and waking to the sound of birds and bulldozers is not the stuff of a happy home.
Where's the love for the single (or attached) professional who's not quite ready to buy a house? Why is it so hard to find somewhere nice to live that doesn't cost me half of my take-home pay (before utilities)? What's the deal!?
Am I the only one with this problem? Or am I actually crazy and just in denial?