I'm very blue today. Maybe it's the blue meanies? I'm listening to Chant by The Benedictine Monks of Santa Domingo de Silos. I'm hoping the monks' Gregorian chants will soothe my nerves. I used to love to listen to Gregorian chants in college, and this music brings that part of my life all back. I probably need to rebuild my Gregorian chant collection again, since what I have is all on vinyl and I haven't had a record player in years.

I've got new upstairs neighbors, and they're totally noisy. My apartment building has hardwood floor and ceilings and floors are very thin. The couple walk around in their shoes when they're in their apartment at night and in the morning, and these past two nights I awoke in the middle of the night to crashing noises. Either someone fell out of bed, or they're doing it at 3 am in the morning and their bed is bouncing up and down. I can hear every step they take, and it's so horrendously annoying!

The whole thing makes me depressed about my living situation, and I haven't been willing to admit it to myself, but my apartment is just not a fun place to live anymore. I was having trouble writing in my apartment, and I attributed my malaise to me needing to sometimes change my writing environment.

It's now beginning to dawn on me, that my apartment is to blame. It's just too small, and it's noisy and I need more space. Now comes the part where I sometimes wish I didn't live in one of the most expensive cities in the world. If lived anywhere else, I could afford to by my own place.

I have a friend who lives in Portland, Oregon. She and her husband own their own home, and have two sons. She's a stay at home soccer mom, and her husband supports all of them on his salary, and I make 25% more than he does. I make more money than he does, and I can barely afford to support myself living here.

The city and county of San Francisco is just such an expensive place to live. I know if I lived outside of the city, my paycheck would stretch much further, but I hate living outside of the city.

The only reason I stay in my place is it's very cheap, and everyone says I should stay here until I can afford to buy my own place. But I don't know. Is it worth it to stay in a place and be miserable? If I move to a bigger place, I wouldn't be able to save as much money as I would want, but I'd still be able to save. It would just mean my plan to purchase a place would be delayed a year or two. And what's a year or two?

I was thinking about my housing situation at work today, and I got the feeling deep in my heart that it's time to move on. I've never gotten this feeling about my apartment before, and the feeling was very sure and strong.

This is partly why I'm so down. I think moving places is traumatic. I used to move every two years, and this is the first place I've been in for longer than two years. I love the location, I love the neighbourhood, I love my view, and I like all of my neighbors, except for the noisy freaks of nature upstairs. I have an odd feeling of comfort about where I live, which probably stems from the length of my stay here.

But it's time to move on. I'm definitely staying in this neighborhood though. I just have to find a bigger place that has lots of windows and light, a view, and is on the top floor so I don't have to hear lead foot smegheads shagging above me in the middle of the bloody night.