This apartment hunt has dragged me to all the nooks and crannies of Central Hong Kong. It has been an adventure that has led me down urine spilled alleyways, up the stairwells of nameless walk-up properties and countless journeys on the Mid-levels escalator. The upside is that I now have a familiarity with Hong Kong and the various stairwells, streets, buildings and shortcuts in and around Central.
My conversations have, for the most part followed a typical schematic. It started off with "Have you found a job?", eventually moving to "Have you found an apartment?" to finally "How's your new place?". It's funny, but you would think that after sleeping on a couch for such a long time I would have moved out immediately. This has not been the case. Despite having the keys in my possession for over a week I still haven't moved into my new place. The truth is that I have been waiting for the delivery of my mattress so I have a place to sleep (as opposed to a pile of clothes), but also deep down I know that I'm having stouts of separation anxiety. Anxiety derived from having to say goodbye to my friends and the living room that has been nothing short of hospitable over the last seven months. I take a look at the room that has housed me and say goodbye to the friends that I have seen almost every waking hour. There's a sadness and an appropriate slowness as I collect my belongings and leave.
I quickly snap out of this melancholic daze as it dawns on me that my apartment is not even a 10 minute walk away. I enter my new apartment block and take the lift up to the eleventh floor. I approach the door which has a lightly brushed oak finish, to be honest, I hardly recognise it, it's been some time since I was last here. I turn the key, there's no click, no chambers moving, I turn it the other way, still nothing. This leads to some frenetic jiggling. My bag slides from my shoulder and I use two hands to work the key into the keyhole. Just as I'm about to prop my leg up against the door frame the door opens. A head sticks out from inside "Can, I, erh, help you?". A reasonable question. Especially considering that I'm bent over with my key in their door. "This isn't Apartment C is it?" I ask. "Nope, C's that one." indicating to the adjacent door. That explains everything, "... Hi, I'm your new neighbour!".
In other news, my housemate this week found out that his company MF Global after 250 years has filed for bankruptcy. It's alarming that a company whose roots date back further than the discovery of Australia can be taken down in the space of a year. The 8th largest Bankruptcy in history and the first US casualty of the European Sovereign Debt Crisis. So as the the Greeks head into referendum and the world slowly falls apart I look forward to nothing more than sleeping in my own bed.
My conversations have, for the most part followed a typical schematic. It started off with "Have you found a job?", eventually moving to "Have you found an apartment?" to finally "How's your new place?". It's funny, but you would think that after sleeping on a couch for such a long time I would have moved out immediately. This has not been the case. Despite having the keys in my possession for over a week I still haven't moved into my new place. The truth is that I have been waiting for the delivery of my mattress so I have a place to sleep (as opposed to a pile of clothes), but also deep down I know that I'm having stouts of separation anxiety. Anxiety derived from having to say goodbye to my friends and the living room that has been nothing short of hospitable over the last seven months. I take a look at the room that has housed me and say goodbye to the friends that I have seen almost every waking hour. There's a sadness and an appropriate slowness as I collect my belongings and leave.
I quickly snap out of this melancholic daze as it dawns on me that my apartment is not even a 10 minute walk away. I enter my new apartment block and take the lift up to the eleventh floor. I approach the door which has a lightly brushed oak finish, to be honest, I hardly recognise it, it's been some time since I was last here. I turn the key, there's no click, no chambers moving, I turn it the other way, still nothing. This leads to some frenetic jiggling. My bag slides from my shoulder and I use two hands to work the key into the keyhole. Just as I'm about to prop my leg up against the door frame the door opens. A head sticks out from inside "Can, I, erh, help you?". A reasonable question. Especially considering that I'm bent over with my key in their door. "This isn't Apartment C is it?" I ask. "Nope, C's that one." indicating to the adjacent door. That explains everything, "... Hi, I'm your new neighbour!".
In other news, my housemate this week found out that his company MF Global after 250 years has filed for bankruptcy. It's alarming that a company whose roots date back further than the discovery of Australia can be taken down in the space of a year. The 8th largest Bankruptcy in history and the first US casualty of the European Sovereign Debt Crisis. So as the the Greeks head into referendum and the world slowly falls apart I look forward to nothing more than sleeping in my own bed.
1 comment:
did you buy a foam bed? and hello kitty blankets?
Thanks :D
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