Ten reasons I will not miss living in an apartment

I'm somewhere in the upper-right quadrant.
The population density.
  1.  A house means no longer having to hide excess animals that aren’t on the lease from maintenance-type officials, all like some cat-based Disney adaptation of The Diary of Anne Frank.
  2. If a neighbor decides to have some sort of social gathering that’s based entirely around loud gossiping and chain-smoking directly outside my open window, I can have them arrested.
  3. The view of a well-maintained school campus across the street beats the hell out of the current views of an electrical substation and shittier apartments than the one I live in.
  4. Walking the dogs first thing in the morning when I really, really have to pee will no longer be extended by five to ten minutes so I can let the next-door neighbor pet the  dogs, while he enjoys a relaxing smoke and a frosty brew. At five in the morning. In his underwear.
  5. If I really have to pee while walking the dogs, I can just go on the side of the house, bitches.
  6. If someone in their underwear is smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer directly in front of my front door at five in the morning, I’m pretty sure Oklahoma law allows me to shoot them at least twice.
  7. Not sharing a wall with someone else means I no longer have to listen to their loud rap music, domestic disturbances, disturbing sex noises, or pet opossums trying to dig their way into my apartment. (I am serious, that is a thing that has happened.)
  8. Not sharing a wall with someone else will allow me to listen to loud, pseudo-Satanic heavy metal without feeling guilty about it.
  9. Living next door to a Pentecostal church will allow me to listen to loud, pseudo-Satanic heavy metal with a strong sense of pride.
  10. If something breaks, I no longer have to wait two weeks for someone to come fix it, then another two weeks for them to come back and fix the actual thing that was broken, instead of the purely cosmetic thing they noticed while they were here to fix the real problem. Then another two weeks while they get in the parts they needed, which they probably could have just run to Home Depot or somewhere like that to pick up in ten minutes. Then, another two weeks after you have to remind them that the thing broke.Then another two weeks for them to come back and re-fix the broken thing that ended up even more broken by their half-assed repair job. Then, when it’s still broken, just giving up and taking cold showers or sleeping in the living room or brushing my teeth in the toilet or whatever.

By all means, not a complete list, but you get the picture.


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