I think I said somewhere in an earlier post that we would be having to move. Then again, I might not. Honestly, I can't tell up from down these days so who knows.
Anywho, we're moving. Not terribly willingly, nor very happy about but here we are. Man, I HATE apartment hunting. There's just something about putting your whole family out on the chopping block like that that has always made me ill. It's amazing how almost 4 years of stability hasn't changed that.
Last week, I finally got up the nerve to start calling landlords and looking at units. Blargh. Now that I could do without. It seems that each one I've called still has their tenant in the unit, and yet wants to show it. How awkward! I've never been one to intrude on another's space, but in this case, it's even worse for me. Here I am, looking through their home with a critical eye, trying to see if my family wold be a good fit instead. I'm not cut out for this.
Friday I went to view an apartment that is, in my opinion, the ideal location. I really loved it. Now, Mr. P. had to work and for the first time ever, I was faced with a nerve wracking, major decision on my own. I was practically in tears! In 9 years, he has always been by my side for these things. Needless to say, I was not in a good spot emotionally upon entering the building to begin with.
It was a 2 bedroom unit on the 3rd floor, so I assumed a family lived there. Well folks, you all know what they what happens when you assume, right?
Eeeesh.
Mr. CCC (that's short for creepy cat collector) led me up to the unit.
Yipes.
Now try as I might, I just could not look at the apartment for what it was. I wanted to get the heck outta there. It wasn't the cats, though there were at least 5 by my count. And it wasn't the fact that I was up there alone with a strange man, which given my past, I doubt anyone would wonder why I was ill at ease.
No, it was that lunatic giggle.
I rather suspect that the 2nd bedroom was for the cats. Now what does that say about the tenant?
I will say that what I saw of the unit I liked. My only complaint was the tiny kitchen, but then again, it may not have been as small as my mind thinks. So I called the landlord today to ask a few questions about that unit and to see about viewing another of his units. Hmmm, that didn't sound too great.
~sigh~
This whole process has made me realize a few things though. As much as I have a tendency to complain about where we live now, we really are blessed in many ways here. We have a large apartment. Our kitchen is truly bigger than any we've had before. I'm deeply spoiled by 2 floor living. Having 1.5 baths has come in handy more than a few times. I really shouldn't complain. Just having it sink in that no matter where we end up, we will be down sizing is a hard thing for me to swallow. (mixing metaphors again) I know this will be hard. I am so afraid of winding up in a bad neighborhood like we were before we moved to where we are now. I'm afraid of having such a small apartment that we will be forced to move in a year again. We are looking for a place to settle for at least 5 years or so. In plain words, this sucks...units.
At least we are in a better place in many ways than when we first came here 4 years ago. We're older, wiser, and stronger. Mr. P. is in a much better position in his job. We're making double the annual amount we did before. Our DCF case is closed and that's a biggie there. And most importantly, we have the Section 8 now. Hopefully we won't screw that up.
And hey who knows? Maybe we'll get a landlord with a heart. Stranger things have happened right?
Til next squeak,
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