I'll be glad when V's back in town, because V has the answers to everything.
As we're taking everything down, it looks like the apartment has more damage than I thought it did. The carpet's probably toast -- it's mashed and squashed and stained from those inevitable things you get when you have four people, one of whom is a kid, living in a place for four years. (A different set of four people for pretty much all of those years, sometimes with an effective four and a half, but still. People. Time. Damage.) There's a dented door from furniture-moving. There are wall-scrapes. There's a towel bar that really needs re-seating. Blinds are cat-damaged, and need replacement. I won't even begin to go into the havoc that the sink-leak caused under the sink.
The trip around to look at my new apartment options turned out to be a group trip, and not just me. JD was very energetic.
The one potential apartment was off in a corner, with a decent view of the interior of the complex, and a good view of the old folks' trailer park next door, but it wasn't quite what I was looking for. The other apartment was brand-spankin'-new-refurbished after that dreadful fire, and had a great view of the road and of the interior of the apartment complex, plus was right next to both pool and laundry room. It does cost slightly more a month (due to the fresh refurbishment and all). Something, though, tells me that they'd have a dreadful time with anyone else living in there, due to the potential for ghosts. A ferret and at least one person died in the fire (the guy's oxygen tanks contributed to the intensity of the blaze) and the chick who lived there before was lucky to get out alive. So I'm taking that one. I like the interior and location and view better.
I've been spinning my wheels, because I still am not mentally ready to give up my old life. This new one has all sorts of interesting people, but ...
... for a little while, I was almost a mother.
It's hard to move on.