I got yet another sign last night that I need to move out of the apartment I’ve lived in for the past 7.5 years. Specifically, as I checked my email last night, I realized that a portion of the carpet in my home office was wet. On further investigation, I discovered that there was some water leakage from the kitchen. I was so disgusted and frustrated by the whole situation. This is not the first time I’ve had water damage in my apartment. Last Christmas a pipe in the apartment above me broke and caused damage in my bedroom. The summer before that, there was a similar problem. It’s one of the reasons I got the management company to replace the entire carpet early spring. I suppose this is what happens when you live in an old building. Of course, it’s not that old. If I had to date it, I’d say circa 1960s. Anyway, as I was throwing out some of the stuff that got wet (mostly papers thank goodness), I came across some of the research I’d done re moving to a apartment/condo in Chicago, another city in the US or possibly somewhere in Europe (ideally London). If you hadn’t guess, I’m totally restless and ready for a change and since I don’t have a husband or kids, I thought I’d explore all options. Unfortunately, I haven’t yet decided where I want to be. Prior to moving to my current apartment, I had moved 8 times in 24 month. After graduating from college in Ann Arbor, I moved back to Boston; then from Boston to Washington DC for law school. Then back to Boston when my Mom took sick. Then to Chicago (apartment 1) after my Mom’s death to live with then boyfriend. Since, we broke up two months later, I took a summer sublet to decide if I wanted to stay in Chicago. After sampling most of the summer festivals that Chicago had to offer, I decided I wanted to say and took a year lease at apartment 3 with a wacko roommate. Once my younger sister came to live with me, I moved into apartment 4 and this is where I’ve been since then. So as to be imagined, I didn’t want to move again for quite sometime. However, after all these years, this apartment is starting to feel like my prison. Being the packrat that I am, lord knows how I’m going to get all must stuff out (mostly concerned about my books). But I need to get out, I need to move on. I’m so ready for new beginnings. Now it’s just a matter of where.