No longer living in Astoria

I got an e-mail from the headmaster (or something) at the school I'm attending in New York a couple of days ago about some new living arrangements. The Astoria apartment I was supposed to live in, is given up because the dude who rents it out wasn't willing to fix some leak or heating problem. Whatever. I was a little pissed, we're leaving in less than three weeks and here we found out we have no idea where we're living.

They'd found an apartments in Harlem, with one less bedroom than the one in Astoria. We figured we'd go for that. It's cheaper. Two of the four girls (me being one of those two) were supposed to have our own bedrooms, now we have to share. But y'know, that'll be fine. As long as I have somewhere to live in New York, I'm content. Dude, I'll be in New York.

I didn't really want to live in Manhattan, because I'll be there so much anyway. I wanted to experience a different New York by living in Brooklyn or Queens. But I can still visit the outer boroughs. I can live there the next time.

It'll all work out fine, I'm still excited of course. But the nerves are showing too. I'm leaving in two and a half week, for four months. I have never been so long away from home, and never so far away from home.