Left for work this morning and discovered a For Sale sign on the front lawn. The following thoughts flashed through my mind:

1) Denial: There is no sign. I’m still drunk from the night before.

2) Anger: Damn landlord! He mentioned nothing of bailing the last time we spoke.

3) Bargaining: Maybe the new owner won’t raise the rent or boot me.

4) Sorrow: After living here for seven years, I’ll miss the apartment.

5) Acceptance: Oh well, maybe it’s time to move into another place anyway. It was a good run, but now it’s over.

Shortly after step five, I left a message for the landlord, inquiring about the sign. He called back two hours later.

The place is not for sale. Some kids removed the sign from another house and planted it in the yard as a joke.

Oh, the humanity.