Adieu Home Sweet Home

Secretly I've always mentally told myself people who lose their homes should just suck up and deal and move on, and I guess that bad karma is coming back to haunt me. I've finally reached the breaking point in my apartment—I still love the inside, it is my home. I love the neighborhood, it's quiet and lots of trees, but my neighbor (a word I hate to use to describe this evil woman because it implies some sort of goodness and clearly she has none) is an evil succubus. The final straw came last night when the new tenant moved in below me, and cigarette smoke wafted up (I counted at least 5 cigarettes over the course of four hours) and I could hear every footfall as he unpacked. That's it, I'm done. I'm sad because I really liked living there (up until 14 months ago when the evil succubus arrived) and was really hoping I could stick it out until I was ready to buy a place somewhere. Rent was reasonable, and it's the only place I've lived longer than 2 years that wasn't my parents house. But now the search begins. If I had the motivation I'd start a website where people could flame their landlords, so you could get the inside information about a place you were moving to before you got there, but I'm just too lazy these days. I managed to scare off a few potential tenants, but there's only so much I could do. So kitty, start packing, we're on the move.