Objects in mirror ARE closer than they appear

Someone said something the other day that resonated with me, about laughter coming easily in our circle of friendship. And I remember thinking, “Why shouldn’t it? Why do we work so hard on so many (other) things that should be effortless? Why are we so taken aback when the stars seem perfectly aligned?” Today, I celebrate things not necessarily coming easily, but instead being worth the wait when they do come.

I went on a marathon tour of D.C. today, in search of not necessarily a dream house, but at least a place to live that that works. At some point — after the ninth place I saw — I was exhausted and slap-happy and declared, “The next place I set foot in, I’m living at.” And as Emeril says, “BAM!”

I applied at five places today. Not that I was in love with any of them, but instead that I realized I have GOT to move on to the next phase of my life … NOW. And it was interesting, how I decided the next one HAD to be it. Because it was.

I was almost home when I told my car, “Pull into a good place — your choice.” And she chose right, I think! I had no plans to go there (I always go out with an itinerary), and maybe that’s why the magic happened the way it did.

I basically walked in and told the rental agent, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have the world’s best opportunity to either make my day wonderful or to simply piss me off. I advise you not to do the latter.” Because I didn’t CARE what she thought — I was so tired of tap-dancing and driving and paying application fees for places I didn’t care a whit about, but yet I needed for them to care enough to let me live at these rat holes.

And when she took me to the model apartment, something inside me finally unwound itself.

I kid you not, it’s the same layout of the place I’m in now. I-freaking-dentical. The only difference is that I have awesome windows here but the new place had kind of crappy ones. But it had everything on my “must-have” list — two beds, two baths, washer/dryer, etc. Gorgeous? Not really. But nice, you know? And I’m fine with nice. I’m fine with a roof over my head and space to put my shit.

The funny thing? I have gotten approved for every last place. It really IS that easy to be happy, once you put your mind to it. So, I have my choice of several.

I’m so happy, I could just sleep.

Normally, I say I’m so happy I could just shit, but I wouldn’t have the strength, even if I did have the urge. 😉

After my dream place rejected my sorry ass, I admit I was a bit unnerved. I figured, especially with these places with the sliding-scale security deposits (i.e., the yuckier the credit, the higher the deposit), I was screwed no matter even if I was approved somewhere.

But apparently those tight-asses lost out on a great tenant (which, DUH) because all these new places asked me for the minimum deposit. I know my credit score isn’t a great one, but not enough that someone would look at me and go, “Yeah, we don’t trust you to live here unless you pay two months’ rent upfront.”


Anyway, I wouldn’t say I’m overjoyed. But at this point, I can start to make plans.

The way I figure it, I’ll give it two years. Hopefully I’ll be moving toward getting married by then. (I’ll be turning 35, damn it — it’s time, already!)

The rental agent actually liked me, despite my attitude problem. She was the only rental agent out of — no shit — 39 places I’ve visited who actually gave me condolences on losing my grandfather and said, “Nothing would make me happier than to know you and your Mom will be able to start your new life here.”

I mean, even if the place turns out to suck ass, it’s nice to have some people who are on my side who give a shit.

In fact, I was sort of balking at the rent price and she said, “What were you aiming to pay?” And I said, “About 50 bucks less than that.” And she said, “OK.” And wrote it in my contract.

Fuck — I should’ve said about $1,000 less! 😉

Actually, she did suggest giving me a half-month free, which would be superb if I can get it. I told her I have to fund two moves, one an interstate one, and I’m not looking for charity, but if there’s any wiggle room available, I’m not ashamed to ask.

I sort of feel like a 5-year-old right now, in general, with my arms outstretched and asking anyone around if they can spare a hug. This isn’t like me — I don’t ask for favors or special considerations or even for the things a normal person expects to deserve. I guess I’m always afraid of actually GETTING what I want, because then I’ll “owe” somebody for their (supposed) trouble.

But today, I learned that if you do ask, you might be pretty surprised and actually get what you want.

So, here I stand, arms still outstretched, not for a handout but if anyone’s got a hug or 20 to spare, I could use it right now. They ARE free, you know. 🙂

Comments closed.