Two months ago M and I moved into a new apartment. When I say ‘new’, it’s actually a fairly old complex with 60 units and it’s a place I’d had my eye on for several years.
I thought it would be perfect because it ticked just about all of my boxes: fantastic bathtub? tick, double adjoining carparks? tick, pool & gym? tick, split level with space for me to have alone time? north-facing? tick, walking distance to work? tick, surrounded by shops? tick, cheaper than my previous apartment? tick.
It all sounds a bit too good to be true, doesn’t it?
Well, it was. As well as the above, I wasn’t counting on the ridiculously loud church bells that ring all day every day, the not-so-secure carpark that resulted in our car window being smashed and stuff stolen two weeks after we moved in, the classical piano-playing next-door neighbour, the low-flying planes that come overhead between the hours of 2am and 7am, the reticulation system for the courtyard garden that somehow runs through the apartment walls and creates a loud buzzing noise between 10pm and 1am that makes me want to peel my face off and last, but not least, the bed bugs.
Granted, all of the above are things that I couldn’t have known before we actually moved in (except the church bells, which I had known about and had had misgivings about, but the rest of the place was so perfect that I thought I’d be able to live with them) but still, I feel like I seriously fucked myself over. I left a perfectly good apartment with great owners for a bug-infested, noisy, crime-filled ghetto! Nah, it’s not actually that bad, but it’s been a stressful experience.
M was quite happy where we were and only agreed to move because it’s what I wanted so I’ve had quite the guilt trip as well. His bedroom is quite noisy and he’s had problems sleeping and it was all his stuff that got stolen out of the car. Along with his stuff, they also took the remote control for the carpark gate that we kept in the car. This resulted in everyone in the complex needing to get their remotes recoded or replaced. I don’t think we were very popular in the new neighbour stakes.
I angsted about whether to move or not for ages. I kept weighing up all the pros and cons and went and had a look at a whole heap of other apartments and this was the only one that I thought was better than where we were living. I’d also come and looked at a couple of different apartments in this complex over the years and always thought that I would like to live here.
I think what I’ve learned from this experience is to stop being greedy. I’ve got a serious case of fomo in regards to everything and the idea that I can ‘do better’ is always at the forefront of my mind. Why can’t I just be content with what I have? Why can’t I settle and accept? Am I chasing some unrealisable dream or do I just have an unrequited sense of entitlement?
Why can’t I ever be happy?