Why does apartment hunting feel like a real-life episode of *Survivor*? 🏝️ You’ve got the stress-inducing pricing in Kensington Market, the questionable “rustic” décor in Leslieville, and that one landlord who thinks a “cozy” place means the size of a broom closet. I’ll continue my epic quest for the perfect ramen while dodging overpriced shoeboxes. Anyone else feeling my pain?