Barring any last minute setbacks or Madison Property Management's rejection of me as a glowing tenant candidate, this will be my home as of the end of the week, if not tomorrow night.
Pictures later. It's the first floor of an old house, with 5 isty-bitsy bedrooms. They used to rent as a single 5-bedroom force, but last week the band broke up and now they're rented as solo projects. Good for me: I'm the first, so I'll be alone until someone else bites. And there's no guarantee all five rooms will find a new friend.
Bad news: I can take the chance of buying the $21/year permit to park on the street, but A) there's no parking right in front of my house, so it'd have to be on a different block, and B) downtown Madi is fucking crowded, so there's no guarantee. I'd probably find a spot and just never move out of fear, biking or busing to work. If not that, I can pay $75 to $80 per month for a parking stall a block away. This is why moving on up is so hard. It's not the glass ceiling, it's remembring back to Lincoln, where places are cheap and parking is abundant. The sacrifces we make for a little culture.
1) It has a sweet main room with bay windows facing the street. Hardwood floors in there and the kitchen.
2) All utilities included in the rent. Crankin' that heat up in the winter, boy howdy.
3) In addition to the main standard bathroom, there's also a second bathroom right next to it with wood paneled walls like a sauna and an inexplicable large jacuzzi tub. Yeah. That's what I said.
For all these things, I'll tolerate my bedroom, which is big enough to fit a twin bed, but not by much. Tomorrow I'll begin my year of indentured servitude. Photos of both shall eventually come forth.
In the meantime, a totally legitimate Internet shrine to one of the worst ideas ever:
Ah, the information age, where with enough time on your hands, you can memorialize anything you damn well please.