Forget Mr. Right, I just want the right apartment

It has to be a good day because it’s payday and bonus day. Whee! Of course, it’s all going into moving, but whatever. It’s nice to feel like I can actually afford something today.

When I was applying at the latest place, the guy wasn’t the slightest bit nice to me till he saw my pay stubs. Whereupon he said a snotty, “Well, I wish I made THIS kind of money.” Which, disclaimer: In D.C., it doesn’t go far, but whatever. Take that salary to Pittsburgh and I’d have a loft on the North Shore or a freaking HOUSE in Bethel Park, but OK. Classy.

I’m still pretty pissed off about being forced to explain myself, about why I have holds on several apartments till I decide on the right one. And I wonder if they wouldn’t even have called me, had I not contacted them. They said I’m otherwise approved, once they talk to my current apartment management. It was like interviewing for a fucking JOB — they asked, “What will they say about you when we call?” And I said, “Good luck getting them to pick up a phone, and if they do, they’ll tell you I’m angry at their incompetence.”

The funny thing? The new place said, “Don’t say that (about them not answering) — we want to get this resolved today.” Apparently they DIDN’T pick up, because I’m still waiting! 😀

I walked around the “new” place last night. In heels. And almost killed myself. Where you park isn’t close to where you live, and the sidewalks? For shit. Seriously. I don’t know if it’s because the District maintains them (and therefore doesn’t mind potholes not only in the roadways, but also the walkways) or because I am a princess. Let’s go with the latter. 😉

You know, everyone keeps telling me I’ll know my dream place when I see it. But I have seen it; I just can’t afford it!

I’m struggling between wondering why things that should come easily, well, don’t. Is it a sign to keep looking? I’m at my wits’ end, people. I’m not in love with it enough to fight for it, but I’m running out of options. I have one particular area in which I want to be, and I’m not budging on the ZIP Code. But I’ve explored every available option and I’m annoyed to be spending money I don’t have on a place I don’t love.

I love the place I’m in, but I spent a whole year practically living out of boxes. I think it’s a sign that I never really unpacked. Mom was so thrilled to see “how far” I’ve come in packing, but then she realized, “Those boxes are in the same place they were when you moved in, right?” Right.

One wonders whether I shouldn’t go month-to-month (at an extra expense), if I even still can, until the right opportunity presents itself. But will it ever?

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