I'm excited. Excited is really too tame of a word for what I'm feeling. Freedom is on the other side of this move so maybe liberated is a better word. No, still not strong enough.
A new home really is a new beginning. The home I'm in now was a new beginning for me when I moved into it. It offered me and my little girl a fresh start after leaving her father for the second and final time. Our house in Warrendale was my first house. A three bedroom bungalow with a basement apartment where my landlord lives.
It was an ideal arrangement when I entered into it; an affordable house with utilities included in a great neighborhood right next to a park. Over the last almost three years; this arrangement has become less and less ideal and it has everything to do with my landlord.
I spent my college summers in Ann Arbor, MI, home of the University of Michigan, with my brother Juan who lived in a basement apartment, sometimes called an income suite. It's a separate residence within a residence; typically in a basement or an attic that is completely separate from the main home that is rented out for income. In my case however, my landlord, being the simplistic, retired senior citizen that he is, lives in the basement and rents the home out which covers the small mortgage and most of the utilities on the home.
My arrangement with my landlord, lets call him Carl became informal very quickly. We met at work. My best friend/boss owned a process serving company that also handled a lot of property maintenance and management. Carl came to her asking for assistance in finding someone to rent the house above him.
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