I finally signed my lease for the new place on Saturday. There was some red tape, and I'll admit to dragging my feet a little. Up until Saturday I was still kind of ambivalent about leaving this apartment, especially after hearing from Jake that he was going to split.

I mean, there's the location, first of all, and the issue of a third higher rent in the new place for a third of the square footage (although I’m getting some great ideas about maximizing space from Anita). But as grand as the current set-up is, the layout of the apartment is so feudal the only way two people could live here peaceably is if either one was paying the other to attend him, or they were madly in love, or at least not averse to sleeping together.

There’s one enormous room, the Lord Fauntleroy Suite, with its own hearth, a big bay window, built-in bookshelves, and a walk-in closet (this room, alone, is roughly the size of my new place), and then there’s basically a corridor that serves as a second bedroom off to the side. Granted, there is another enormous shared space, but if you find you’re living with someone you don’t really want to share it with, it makes for an awkward dance — something like Kate Gosselin and Tony Dovolani doing the Foxtrot on DWTS .

I was also a little worried, I’ll admit, about the impact of the move on my budget. I can cover it, but I might have to cut back on new additions to my beloved beanie baby collection…

…I was planning on auditioning for Hoarders — this move might slow me down.

As far as signing on the dotted line, the thing that clinched it for me was revisiting the new apartment. Although I'd put down a deposit on the place several weeks ago, I had been putting off signing the lease so long, I wanted to see it again before I did. So Saturday I met the rental agent and we had another look.

I may have mentioned that I’d originally been shown two almost identical flats in the building, one on the second floor, and another on the third. The third floor flat was fifteen bucks more a month, even though with this particular property the view’s not any different. They both look out over beautiful Ramler Park, but the second floor flat was a mess when it was shown, the third-floor flat was in better overall condition, and I have to admit I was intrigued by the current tenant.

He was a young man, probably an intern or resident at a nearby hospital – most of the apartments in that part of the neighborhood are rented by young professionals employed in the nearby Longwood Medical area. The place was tidy but not fussy, austere but not Spartan. It had a masculine feel and scent.

Don’t get too excited, it wasn’t a gym shoes and jockstrap kind of scent. This was a blend of warm, natural woody essences. A clean, masculine energy infused everything – it was in the furniture, the feng shui, the underwear drawer, everywhere.

After the first time I saw the place, I found myself in idle moments wondering about the tenant, and just like in the Polanski film by that name (a personal fave), I thought maybe some of that mojo would remain floating around the flat for me even after he'd gone (hopefully not out the third-floor window like the tenant in the movie, though).

While I was snooping – er, looking around the flat (honestly there was no way to snoop – everything was basically right out in the open) I noticed the photo on the night stand. A handsome, pleasantly nondescript young man with a young woman of the same species. It could easily have been the picture that came with the frame, but I knew it wasn’t. 

I felt good again about sharing a flat with someone, so long as we’re not sharing it at the same time.