After another solid week of apartment hunting, I finally managed to find an awesome apartment. I was the master bedroom in a two-story, four bedroom townhouse on the corner of Market and Sanchez Streets. My three roommates were all in their mid-twenties and all worked together at the nearby Cheesecake Factory.
So on Friday, I got my bed delivered there and decided to spend my first night! (But then it turned out that directly below was an furniture upholsterer workshop and I was awoke at 6am by sounds of four men conversing loudly while using staple guns. The floor was so thin that it literally sounded like they were making furniture in the room with me. When I told my really cool totally nutty, fifty-something year old, ex-hippy, almost-roommate that the noise was waaaay too loud and that I was pretty sure I'd be unable to work there he said "Awww man, I've been trying to find a groovy roommate for months and you're like it, man. Don't you think you could just like, start getting up earlier?" Doh. As cool as the place would've been, it was unfortunately back to apartment hunting for me. (nooooooo!)
So I ended up finding a huge room in a 6,000 sq ft loft in the Mission and decided to take it. The guy who owned the place was a film archivist and most of the other 6,000 sq feet were filled floor to ceiling with film canisters. It was crazy!
