Ever since I moved into the new apartment three weeks ago, I’ve had this eerie sense of impending doom. Not about the actual building or space, or even necessarily the “home” piece of my life, but I swear, the feeling started as soon as we moved in. There’s nothing wrong with the place – the neighbors keep to themselves and I haven’t seen a single police officer on the property since we’ve been here (224 Linden St was the worst). It’s kind of noisy at night because of the location, but just regular street noise. I don’t know, maybe I’m just that whacked in the head. Or maybe I’m blessed with some weird sixth sense that lets me know I’m soon to be screwed, but doesn’t give details. Fantastic. I
You know that feeling?