Changes In Latitudes, March 23rd

I love that song by Jimmy Buffett, “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes.” It’s so sing songy and puts me in a summer vibe mood. Can’t you just picture slow sipping a huge frozen piña colada while reclining on a gorgeous beach, breeze ruffling the edges of your yellow striped towel. Ahhh indeed.

Oh, yesterdays are over my shoulder
So I can’t look back for too long
There’s just too much to see waiting in front of me
And I know that I just can’t go wrong
With these changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes
Nothing remains quite the same
With all of my running and all of my cunning
If I couldn’t laugh I just would go insane

Well for me these lyrics hit “home” right now quite literally. And not because I’m on a beachy vacation. It’s more that I’m in the process of cashing out my City views condo on the Upper West Side for a fabulous rental I am proud to call my new home. It is only a short walk away from the OG, but what a difference a NYC block can make. I’m on a slightly higher floor and I have a whole different outlook, literally. My home office will be positioned in a prime living room corner so I can still enjoy a gaze out the window for inspo while I’m writing or hop out on the terrace to take a call. And all because of a change in latitude.

As I hoped, the sale of my apartment went fairly quickly. It was on the market and the winter was cruel so showings weren’t frequent… I was getting nervous and then poof! In contract… including the sale of many of my furnishings and art. So I’ve been leaning into the expedited timeline feeling an unexpectedly welcome sense of being immediately unburdened by the loss of property and material things. I hurried to declutter and carefully pack. I especially didn’t want to end up with a bunch of old items I’d decide to toss after the move was over so I took a strict approach for decisioning my keep and toss piles for every category. I wanted to have minimal carryover for furnishings too, specifically so that I could later enjoy the process of starting from scratch with a new color palette and fresh approach.

Plus I pictured just sitting in a nearly vacant space with just the necessities. What a dream to let all of the stuff go! I felt like with all those things, the weight of the obligations vanished too. What a relief. I realized a lot from the move. My old apartment came at a time in my life when I was a single mom to an elementary schooler. I was looking to put down roots and finally join the cult of homeownership. A huge goal realized. But there was so much responsibility and pressure that went along with that decision. And the years ahead seemed daunting. After long days of work I was always running to grocery shop, prepare dinner, supervise homework, have a bit of fun with my son, and try to carve out a little me time. It was a period of my life where I was constantly juggling saving for college with enjoying the present, and plagued by money worries, while counting on myself to achieve extraordinary levels of success at work and at home just to keep the dream life going. Life was rewarding but seriously demanding and completely exhausting.

I managed to slowly decorate and curate a space and a life for which I was proud. A cozy and colorful home to my small family. And a place to enjoy and appreciate my surroundings of art, collectables, and furnishings I showcased and treasured. For me it became an oasis of calm and safety mixed with whimsy and humor. I made sure that my apartment was truly an extension of me.

Fast forward all these years later and I find it hard to believe that I actually managed. And I dealt with some pretty serious curve balls. Like my real estate taxes debacle. You’re not going to believe this story! When I moved in there was a ten year tax abatement in place for the building because it was new construction. And I was foolishly under the impression that my taxes stayed at that starter rate for the whole ten years and then I’d be bumped up to market. So things were humming along and two years into home ownership I got my tax bill and the amount was TEN TIMES the prior quarter. So I called to make them aware of THEIR mistake. Ha. OMG. The lovely city employee informed me that a tax abatement was a step up plan… as in every two years I’d see an increase until at year ten I’d be paying the full amount. I nearly had a heart attack. Nobody told me and I had no idea that was a question I needed to ask. Ah to be in your 30s and think you have the whole world figured out.

So now that I’ve completed the arc of being a renter, an owner and a renter again, I’m convinced that this move and change in status is a great choice for me. I am planning to use all of the sale proceeds to compound some interest and grow a little nest egg while taking advantage of not having to replace a broken air conditioner or leaky kitchen faucet ever again! The piece of mind of not owning is truly spectacular.

Yes of course Michael will be here a lot and I will still schlep to PA for the welcome breath of country air and to flirt with being a suburbanite. It’s nice to be able to escape the madness of NYC once in a while. But I’m flying completely solo in my new crib. Each design choice and the placement of furniture, forks and footrests is all on me. How exciting to have bare walls and not be in a rush to complete a project I plan to relish. And although decidedly my big purple couch Barney will not make the move over to Rentersville (he’s being donated to my favorite building handyman), I’ve decided to call the new couch (who has been selected but has yet to arrive) Barney as well. May the memory of his fluffy chenille exterior, thick cushiony seats, and hearty armrests forever be a blessing.