(Originally posted Dec. 31, 2009)
I just moved for the fourth time this year.
That means I’m living in my fifth residence in the last 11 months. The need to save money for travel drives me to live this way. That, as well as the need for some type of independence and the desire to not live out in the middle of nowhere, I suppose.
When 2009 began, I was working and living in Port Orchard, in the southern part of Kitsap County. Two weeks later I got a job in Poulsbo, in the northern part of the county. A week after I started that job, I moved in with my parents, near the center of the county but still a 25-minute drive from work. Living with my parents was a great way to pay off my car and to save money for travel – that’s how I saved enough to frolic around South America for seven months in 2007. But it didn’t do much for my pride or social life. So after about three months I moved into a one-bedroom apartment in Poulsbo, just five minutes from work.
The Poulsbo apartment was great, for the most part. There, I could have women over if I wanted. Something that rarely happened, and never in a romantic way, much to my chagrin. But I could also have my buddies over. Another thing that rarely happened, mainly because my buddies have huge TVs with cable and Netflix, and I have a 20-inch RCA tube and burned DVDs. Nevertheless, it was a nice little place that suited me well. The only real problem (after the upstairs neighbors apparently grew bored of intercourse) was the moisture in the air. A leak in the south wall allowed water in and turned certain areas moldy. One morning, I moved my bed away from the wall to find part of my comforter soaked.
So by the time I left Poulsbo for Kingston, I was glad to go. But I wasn’t too thrilled about my new place. It was about $200 a month cheaper than the Poulsbo apartment, but it was just a room in a basement. I had to share a kitchen and bathroom with a tree-hugger couple who were very kind but only gave me about one tenth of the refrigerator. The location was also no good. The house was tucked back in the woods on a muddy alley off of a busy highway (Bond Road), and I had to drive 10 minutes or more to get anywhere. I’m not a country boy, and can’t stand being cut off from civilization like that, so I decided the place wasn’t for me.
And then my dad mentioned something that motivated me to get out even faster. He asked if I had a window in my basement room. I said, “No. Why?” And he said, “Well, you have no fire escape. Your bedroom door leads into the kitchen, and if there’s ever a fire in the kitchen/common area, you’re toast. Literally.” OK, I added that last part. But we both realized it was actually illegal for the owner of the house to rent out that room as a living quarters, because it had no fire escape.
So I quickly started looking around for a new, cheap place to live. This was two weeks after I’d moved into the basement, mind you.
One of my coworkers said she and her boyfriend were also looking for a cheap place, and might want to share a house if I was interested. I was all set to start checking out homes with them when my brother texted me. He said it would be easier to pay his brand new mortgage if he had a roommate, and he knew I wanted to live cheaply. I thought about it. I knew he liked to get drunk and act like a dick every weekend. And plenty (but not all) of his friends are shallow bags of douche. And he was living one neighborhood away from my parents’ place. But he was only asking $300 for rent. In a brand new house. I figured as long as we stay out of each other’s way, this might work.
So here I am, back in East Bremerton. The house is nice, and my brother has been OK for the most part. But who knows how long I’ll stay here. Maybe a few months, until I save up enough money to backpack around Europe or road trip around the U.S. Or until I find an equally cheap place within 30 minutes of work and have the energy to move yet again.
But I’ll try to ignore the annoying parts and enjoy the advantages of being here in the meantime.
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