So yesterday exBoyfriend and I, yes that is what I am now calling him, started our search for two 1-bedroom apartments in Surry Hills. Well that would have to be one of the most depressing experiences of the last 10 years. Besides the obvious emotional side of leaving our home and starting afresh, real estate prices in this city are RIDICULOUS!!! I had no idea. I literally feel violated.
I haven’t rented in Sydney since an enormous, but cheap, 3 bedroom terrace in Bondi Junction with Miss Cal 6 years ago. It was so big we practically had our own wing each. Before that I was living in Melbourne back when it was considered Third World. Then before that it was the Legendary ‘432’ Surry Hills terrace where I have no idea how much I paid in rent, only what I spent on vodka. So it was a huge culture shock yesterday to discover what Sydney-siders pay in rent. My wallet aches just thinking about it.
I’m quite attached to the idea that I am somewhat glamorous! Especially as I am fast approaching 40 and surely at this age you should be able to expect a certain level of comfort. I like shiney new things with bells and whistles. In an apartment I like to have a balcony, at least 1 four-walled bedroom, a dishwasher, and non-stained carpet. I don’t think I’m asking for that much? Well it appears that such an apartment requires a deposit bigger than a mortgage and an ongoing monthly rent equal to New Zealand’s GDP.
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| Ummm... NO! |
I spent most of the day trying to do the sums. And it did my head in. Thank god I had exBoyfriend with me or I’d be still wandering the streets aimlessly multiplying by 52 and dividing by 12. To further complicate matters, neither of us can bare to think about anything but joint custody of our treasured boys Jackson and Sam. It seems approx. 1% of rentals allow pets. Most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And they haven’t even met Jackson and Sam, so judgemental. They are cleaner than I am and definitely make less mess. Some would say they even smell better!
So after all of the traipsing around Surry Hills/Darlinghurst/Woolloomooloo we found just one apartment that had potential. Dishwasher – yes. Balcony – yes. It has a lovely bathroom, lots of cupboard space and a carpark. Bedroom only has two of the four walls but we all need to make concessions. Most importantly they allow pets! Brilliant! Almost kissed the agent. Now I have to go through the tedious process off applying and references and payslips blah blah blah. Why don’t they just take my word for it! I am too fabulous for words, can pay all my bills and in the right light I’m semi-attractive. And it would really help us out.
Everyone please pray to the Rental Gods that this one comes through! And if you have any hot tips be sure to let me know. And if you are a real estate agent call me immediately! You are my new best friend.
Note: This is the first in a new series of posts called "Single gay man looking..." as after only a few days I am already overwhelmed with how many new things I will have to do on my own. Damn, this is a whole new frightening world.
