My old apartment was close to a fairly major street in the suburbs of Denver. That street is no longer one I travel on daily, but I do have occasion to drive it a few times in the average week.
Tonight, I was driving by, and noticed a light on in the bedroom window of my old apartment. Now, I'd seen empty apartments in the complex before with lights on in the kitchen and dining areas -- they just always leave the lights on in case of a showing, energy conservation be damned. But, as is so often the way with apartments, there's no built-in lights in the other living areas of the place. Definitely not in that master bedroom.
Someone has moved in to my old apartment.
I took note of it not because I'm remotely curious about the kind of person who might have moved in. Certainly not because I miss the old place -- I've hardly thought about it, in fact. No, I noticed it because I realized in that moment that I really hoped those bastards that ran my old apartment complex would twist in the wind for a while and not find anybody new to take the place for months on end.
Maybe there's some consolation on that front in knowing there's no way they would have found someone to move in at the rate they were increasing my rent to. They probably had to offer some crazy "move-in special" like the one that suckered me into going there in the first place.
What a dumb thing to hold even a tiny grudge over. I need to let this one go.
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