So this is the first look into our new digs here in Lincoln central. I'm sure Mom is curious to see where I'm living now. Our dining room/foyer/office taken at an angle that hides the mess that still looms. Though as of about 30 minutes ago, the mess is now confined to my studio and our bedroom (slightly). I am getting really sick of unpacking. Just like I was really sick of packing. Luckily Mike was able to lend a hand this afternoon.
As you can see, I even lit candles. It gave a nice ambiance, plus helps mask the weird smell that may make its way in from the hallway. I'm pretty convinced that our neighbors across the hall bailed in the middle of the night, leaving a nasty, stinky apartment behind. Besides the fact that Mike saw them move out in a hurry a couple weekends ago, I had a surprise visit from a private investigator of some sort (hired by the landlord) to ask me some questions about the neighbors. I'm not sure he completely bought it when I said I just moved in…but I did, and he can check that with the rental office. Trust me, buddy, I'm not haboring any secrets about the deadbeats across the hall. I did get freaked out when he came back a few minutes later (after taking my name). As I looked at him through the peephole, deciding if he might kill me with a hidden gun or knife, my life flashed before my eyes.
Ok, it wasn't that extreme. But I did have that fleeting thought that he might be some geeky-looking serial killer.
As you can see, I even lit candles. It gave a nice ambiance, plus helps mask the weird smell that may make its way in from the hallway. I'm pretty convinced that our neighbors across the hall bailed in the middle of the night, leaving a nasty, stinky apartment behind. Besides the fact that Mike saw them move out in a hurry a couple weekends ago, I had a surprise visit from a private investigator of some sort (hired by the landlord) to ask me some questions about the neighbors. I'm not sure he completely bought it when I said I just moved in…but I did, and he can check that with the rental office. Trust me, buddy, I'm not haboring any secrets about the deadbeats across the hall. I did get freaked out when he came back a few minutes later (after taking my name). As I looked at him through the peephole, deciding if he might kill me with a hidden gun or knife, my life flashed before my eyes.
Ok, it wasn't that extreme. But I did have that fleeting thought that he might be some geeky-looking serial killer.
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