A swift kick in the head

Sometimes, your plans get thrown a wrench. The measure of a man, or woman, is how they respond to the situation. Do you bitch and moan? Do you file a complaint and hope that the problem goes away? Or do you roll with it?

A few months back, we had decided that we were moving to a new place. We had started looking at apartments, we had a good idea where we'd end up going, how much it'd cost, but we didn't have the cash on hand; after all, you need the first month of rent, and you have to figure out the moving costs. So I looked at getting a loan. That didn't go over well, as I hadn't been all that smart about using it, so I was denied. Given that situation, the move was put on hold till the financial situation got resolved.

Now, the plan was to fix the credit thing, save some cash, and take the time to find the best place possible at our leisure. I had taken the credit-fix steps, I was on the way to start putting some cash in savings, the back bills were being cleared out, and then it came up that I could start returning to the workplace in the coming weeks, so that I could start seeing some more cash coming in, and while were at it, its quite likely that my girlfriend might get a raise too, so all was going well, yeah?

Turns out that, no. I had expected summer to be something of a bitch, since that the patio would be set up, and there would be some more clientele at a later time in the downstairs bistro, but I figured, we can pull with that for a while more and then move out.

But the bastard is a selfish ambitious bastard. The downstairs bistro has been holding some parties till 3 am, DJs and all. The volume was so loud, the stuff on the shelves were vibrating. Now, if I had moved over a bar, or club, I'd understand. But that isn't the case. Hell, I moved in here before he set up shop down there. Anyways, I called he cops, complaining about the noise level. Took a while for them to respond. Like 2 1/2 hours. And when they get there, I find out that the bistro's getting a bar license. What that means, essentially, is that he can stay open till 3 am every night, sell alcohol and pump up the volume all that time. A dreadful prospect with summer coming.

The area is an up-and-coming neighborhood, an old low-income/welfare area that's being gentrified, condos and fancy shops and all. And he's into the fancy shop shit. If you were a counsellor and you had to pick sides between a thriving business and a pissed-off citizen, in an area that going gentrified, who would you pick? We got our answer when the cops visited and talked to them, but it essentially changed nothing. We get to look forward to near-unlivable nights for the foreseeable future.

So the plan got it's wrench. Well, its sort of back to square one, really. We're leaving as soon as possible, lease renewed or not. Its unlivable, and we cant win, so why fight on his terms? We're back into looking at our financial options, which will most likely be harsh, but I'd rather drop some cash than deal with the asshole downstairs.

The way I see it, we'll have to move aggressively, purge smartly and pack out stuff and leave. I cant say that I care much for this place, we were to move out anyways. But the timing gets thrown a curve ball, and we just gotta roll with it. We might have to downgrade the budget, but we have to get one available ASAP. And we will.

One way or another.