Much Moving and More Shaking
If you’re looking for a windy-city-winter-warm-up to scald your feet, fry your brain cells, char your patience, and burn your pocket crisp, you simply must move homes. How you accomplish it depends, among other things, on how many landlords’ whims and wiles you’re willing to endure, and how fast you can crunch numbers without reaching for a calculator (because costs invariably escalate with the batting of an eyelid, or revamping of the Dan Ryan). Of course, if you’re among the fortunate few and are at the mercy of an agent, (unless you’re Oprah Winfrey) you needn’t worry about the latter, as the agent will do all the talking, wheedling, and deciding.
Let’s assume you aren’t among those privileged few, and are on your own. You begin by listing out all the criteria that will make a house best suited for your family. But clearly, compromise is the key word, as your husband’s longing for a jumbo garage or your yearning for roomy closets will not counterbalance a pint-sized den that won’t hold your baby’s two million toys. Then you make the calls, and it is suggested that you write every bit of information down, including the time and duration of the calls, the quotes, the offers, the works. Then you set out on the site seeing, and even if you inadvertently forget your coat, you won’t exactly freeze to death, as the prices might set your sweat glands working overtime. And then, you check out the neighborhood, (better Wiggles-Ville than Wrigley-Ville) scrutinize every nook and cranny, and generally take mental notes of anything interesting or uninteresting you might discern.
Finally, with all your stars aligned in the apposite places, and the assent of the inspectors (and carpenters, plumbers, electricians, and all their other kin) if you happen upon your near-perfect new haven, you move on to the next level - the sign up procedure. Now this requires extraordinary math skills, extra powerful vision, and legal parlance proficiency. Math skills for obvious reasons, and the effective vision coupled with a thorough grasp of legal dialect, might come in handy for conscientious interpretation of mysterious terms and clauses set conveniently in fine print. You also need to supply all documents that pertain to your existence, and endorse your motor skills, marital status, professional standing, wages, and, unless you’re eligible for a hundred-and-ten percent credit, some savings. Once the paper work is done and over with, you embark upon the mammoth mission of packing, cleaning, and moving (however, if you’re left with any dough at the end of it all or are benign enough to forsake a meal or two, you might consider hiring movers). And aside from unpacking, rearranging, and reorganizing, you’ll have to baby-proof all the outlets, cabinets, doors, drawers, and anything that holds assets and snaps open precariously. To be completely safe, you’ll also have to elevate the entire house up by a few feet, unless your little one takes Pooh’s invite to play very seriously, or actually lives on Sesame Street.
Let’s assume you aren’t among those privileged few, and are on your own. You begin by listing out all the criteria that will make a house best suited for your family. But clearly, compromise is the key word, as your husband’s longing for a jumbo garage or your yearning for roomy closets will not counterbalance a pint-sized den that won’t hold your baby’s two million toys. Then you make the calls, and it is suggested that you write every bit of information down, including the time and duration of the calls, the quotes, the offers, the works. Then you set out on the site seeing, and even if you inadvertently forget your coat, you won’t exactly freeze to death, as the prices might set your sweat glands working overtime. And then, you check out the neighborhood, (better Wiggles-Ville than Wrigley-Ville) scrutinize every nook and cranny, and generally take mental notes of anything interesting or uninteresting you might discern.
Finally, with all your stars aligned in the apposite places, and the assent of the inspectors (and carpenters, plumbers, electricians, and all their other kin) if you happen upon your near-perfect new haven, you move on to the next level - the sign up procedure. Now this requires extraordinary math skills, extra powerful vision, and legal parlance proficiency. Math skills for obvious reasons, and the effective vision coupled with a thorough grasp of legal dialect, might come in handy for conscientious interpretation of mysterious terms and clauses set conveniently in fine print. You also need to supply all documents that pertain to your existence, and endorse your motor skills, marital status, professional standing, wages, and, unless you’re eligible for a hundred-and-ten percent credit, some savings. Once the paper work is done and over with, you embark upon the mammoth mission of packing, cleaning, and moving (however, if you’re left with any dough at the end of it all or are benign enough to forsake a meal or two, you might consider hiring movers). And aside from unpacking, rearranging, and reorganizing, you’ll have to baby-proof all the outlets, cabinets, doors, drawers, and anything that holds assets and snaps open precariously. To be completely safe, you’ll also have to elevate the entire house up by a few feet, unless your little one takes Pooh’s invite to play very seriously, or actually lives on Sesame Street.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home