I opened the door to my new place last spring and heard a noise I hadn’t heard when I looked at the apartment. Maybe it’s the bathroom fan upstairs, the property manager said. But it wasn’t; it was my brand-new refrigerator, and I’d soon learn that it runs loudly and long, more than half of every hour. This wouldn’t be a problem in a big house, but in a studio apartment with my bed about 10 feet away, it wasn’t good. This was especially dispiriting since I’d just moved from an apartment I really liked for two years until the rattle and hum of a new generator at the nearby light rail construction project kicked in to keep me awake at night.
The fridge was the only serious noise issue for a while, until new folks moved into the apartment above mine last summer. Whether due to work schedules or insomnia, they were often up all night. After being jolted awake by the agitator of a washing machine at 3 a.m. a few times within a week — their laundry stack was right above my bed — I wrote a note asking them not to do laundry in the wee hours. Happily, they stopped, but even their normal walking-around noises in the cheaply built structure were enough to interfere with a good night’s rest.
With my lease expiring in early March and a rent increase coming, I decided late last year to see if I could find a new place. I realized that come 2022, I’d be eligible to apply for an “affordable” apartment in a 61+ community since I turn that age this year. I visited one a few blocks from me, where they offered a big discount and a free month. The apartment was far from perfect in its layout, but it seemed quiet, and its well-below-market price was a steal. I got the extensive paperwork together just before Christmas so the manager could submit the application right after the holidays.
It was a mirage. By the last week of January, my application seemed mired in a black hole of bureaucracy, and I was nearing the date when I need to give notice at my current apartment, so I started looking elsewhere. After losing out on one apartment I liked, I knew I’d need to act quickly if I saw another one I wanted. (To prevent discrimination, Seattle has a law that a landlord must rent to the first qualified tenant who applies.)
I also decided to look beyond Craigslist to see what might be flying under the radar. That’s how, on a neighborhood walk last Thursday, I saw a building I hadn’t noticed before, with a sign out front for a local property management company. There was no indication an apartment was becoming available, but I checked the company’s website on Friday morning and saw a listing for a one-bedroom unit at a good price. I immediately asked for a showing, I liked what I saw, I went online to apply Friday night, and by Tuesday morning, I heard that it was mine.
Things happen — or they don’t — for a reason. Although the idea of a cheap-apartment-for-life at the senior place was enticing, I was born restless. I definitely hope to spend at least two years, maybe even three, at this new address. But after that, with the pandemic firmly behind us, perhaps I’ll finally pursue my long-held dream of putting what little I own in a small storage unit and traveling for a year or two.
Although I’m not an astrology buff, I spotted my January horoscope from the cheeky Free Will Astrology column. “You will receive substantial assistance from life whenever you work on the intention to clarify and define the specific longings that are most essential to you,” it said. For now, my biggest longing is to end a year of sleep deprivation. “Peace and tranquility,” my dad used to say whenever my brother and I asked him what he wanted for his birthday or for Christmas. We’d laugh and laugh, but now I get it — and hopefully, I’ll have it.