Oh, the Places I Won’t Go
Why I can’t stop looking at apartments I’ll never rent
Name any major U.S. city, and I can tell you what a two-bedroom apartment goes for. Tell me you’re looking for a new place in Brooklyn, and I will give you specific examples of what’s currently on the rental market. No, I don’t work in real estate, nor have I ever. It’s just that for most of my adult life, I have resorted to one weird trick for quelling the ever-increasing moments of anxiety and existential despair: browsing apartment listings online.
When I mention this habit to friends, it’s generally met with one of two reactions. The far more common and admittedly very rational one is a look of horror that starts in the eyes. It’s a look that says, “I have had to find apartments before, and it is a punishing process I would not wish on anyone.” But on rare occasions, I meet like-minded people who know what I know — that while actually looking for an apartment to live in is an unrelenting drag, browsing through listings for the mere pleasure of it, with no real-world purpose, is like sinking into a hot bath or whatever it is normal people do to relax.
The fantasy of the me who lives in that apartment is cultivated and maintained by the persistence with which I will never realize it.
