Moving day has come and gone and I'm so happy to be in my new place. Its so much bigger than I kept thinking it would be, and once all these boxes surrounding me are unpacked and everything is in its own little place, I'm going to really like it here. The one thing I hadn't thought about before moving here was that since I'm now on the bottom floor, there are people above me, and the sound of feet is very distracting. I'm sure I'll get used to it, just like any new place. I got used to the sound of obnoxious bass coming out of the cars waiting for pizza at the last place and I have nothing remotely as annoying as that happening here.
Yesterday, as I was sitting outside watching the moving truck, a very hip, stylish grandma sat down next to me. She had spied some Jehovah Witnesses ringing her bell one door over and was going to wait them out. They were taking their time and we had a lovely chat about churches, politics and most intriguing, my (ex) landlord. She said that my building has always had a very high turnover rate of tenants. She knew of my landlord ever since he and his mother had a sandwich shop in the neighborhood years ago. She also said that the reason the last laundromat people left (I liked the previous ones so much more than the current ones) was because Ed would refuse to pay them because they didn't work enough, according to him. He would also come in and verbally harass them for not working hard enough. I said I really hope that karma pays him back someday, and she said that it already has, he has to live with himself.