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The Baby Zone. Perhaps you've heard of it -- it's that stage of pregnancy where both prospective parents suddenly realize that the entire world is a personal affront to their unborn child. I recently watched two friends of mine enter the zone, which is why I'm moving this summer.
I and the friends, who are married, have been sharing an apartment for a little over a year and renewed the lease back in April, which sticks us with the apartment until April 2010. Their names, my name, and my father's name are all on the lease, my father's because none of us could qualify to rent the place with our credit. Yes, it's a little rundown. Yes, the neighborhood stinks (literally and figuratively). But, it's close to work, we all three of us have a lot in common and we enjoyed our time here.
Then she got pregnant. All went well for the first few months. Stupidly, I figured the plan was for all to just tough it out until April when we'd either go our seperate ways, or else try to find a big enough house for the three of us and a critter.
It was not to be however. Last week I decided to take the friends out for dinner and on the way to the restaurant, she suddenly piped up, "What are you going to do when we move out?"
This was news to me and I said so. She replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "We don't think there's enough room so we've been looking for another place. Don't worry though, we won't leave until you've had a chance to find another roommate because I'd feel really bad."
Good to know, I guess. Nobody wants their rent to increase by about $500 all of a sudden, nor does anyone want to suddenly find themselves paying fully half of their monthly income in rent.
Every time I tried to breach the subject over the weekend, I got the same reply as though they'd been thinking of this for practically forever, and I should have been thinking about it with them even though they never mentioned it.
Thankfully, though, before this could end in homelessness, defaulting on the lease, or bankruptcy, Providence intervened in the form of two more friends -- who have absolutely no plans to get pregnant -- needing a roommate in a much nicer, somewhat larger apartment four miles up the road in a much nicer neighborhood. So... off I go.
Never mind that it was my and my dad's credit that got those two out of a wretched little trailer 48 miles away from her job, with no running water, and which had begun to make her both suicidal and alcoholic and which had begun to make him consider leaving her. Never mind anything of the sort. They've entered The Baby Zone, which gives the parents-to-be license to screw over anyone and anything lest it get in the way of the critter.
Jeez... Yes, I ended up getting the better end of this deal, but still. I'm pissed.
I and the friends, who are married, have been sharing an apartment for a little over a year and renewed the lease back in April, which sticks us with the apartment until April 2010. Their names, my name, and my father's name are all on the lease, my father's because none of us could qualify to rent the place with our credit. Yes, it's a little rundown. Yes, the neighborhood stinks (literally and figuratively). But, it's close to work, we all three of us have a lot in common and we enjoyed our time here.
Then she got pregnant. All went well for the first few months. Stupidly, I figured the plan was for all to just tough it out until April when we'd either go our seperate ways, or else try to find a big enough house for the three of us and a critter.
It was not to be however. Last week I decided to take the friends out for dinner and on the way to the restaurant, she suddenly piped up, "What are you going to do when we move out?"
This was news to me and I said so. She replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "We don't think there's enough room so we've been looking for another place. Don't worry though, we won't leave until you've had a chance to find another roommate because I'd feel really bad."
Good to know, I guess. Nobody wants their rent to increase by about $500 all of a sudden, nor does anyone want to suddenly find themselves paying fully half of their monthly income in rent.
Every time I tried to breach the subject over the weekend, I got the same reply as though they'd been thinking of this for practically forever, and I should have been thinking about it with them even though they never mentioned it.
Thankfully, though, before this could end in homelessness, defaulting on the lease, or bankruptcy, Providence intervened in the form of two more friends -- who have absolutely no plans to get pregnant -- needing a roommate in a much nicer, somewhat larger apartment four miles up the road in a much nicer neighborhood. So... off I go.
Never mind that it was my and my dad's credit that got those two out of a wretched little trailer 48 miles away from her job, with no running water, and which had begun to make her both suicidal and alcoholic and which had begun to make him consider leaving her. Never mind anything of the sort. They've entered The Baby Zone, which gives the parents-to-be license to screw over anyone and anything lest it get in the way of the critter.
Jeez... Yes, I ended up getting the better end of this deal, but still. I'm pissed.
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