So long 2224. Hello 2292
Since moving into a townhome with no attic and no garage, a storage unit has quietly become part of normal life.
I don’t love it.
I prefer less. I hate paying to store stuff.
But then reality hits…
What do you do with grandma’s dishes?
Where do the Christmas decorations go?
Camping gear?
That bike Angie will ride someday?
A 10×7. Climate-controlled. Basically a closet in the sky.
That’s where.
This is now my 5th unit across 3 different locations. And the cycle is always the same…
You sign up online for $35/month.
Feels reasonable.
Then 6… 9 months later…
It’s $90.
The storage companies know the game. Most of us won’t move. Too inconvenient. Too much hassle. So they just keep bumping the price.
Well… I’m not most people.
I got the notice that May’s rent was going to $125/month.
Nope.
I called and said, “There’s a place four tenths of a mile away offering units for $28. You want to keep me or lose me?”
They offered to “help” by keeping me at $90… for three more months.
Three truckloads. Three hours later…
So long 2224.
Hello 2292.
$28/month.
Apparently this is just part of my life for now—until there’s an attic again.
But until then… I’ll keep moving.
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