I spent entirely too much time this past weekend doing things other than relaxing. Each day was filled with appointments, or making appointments, meeting people to look at houses, going to speak with landlords or calling them, looking at cars, taking care of the puppy, taking the puppy here and there for various checks and evaluations and tests, going to this or that person's party or get-together, and trying to find time to eat thrown in there somewhere.
It was really odd. Normally when we take a few days off together we have absolutely Nothing To Do. This time we hadn't made any plans but things just kept popping up. By 9pm every night I was so tired I thought about going to bed. But I ended up staying awake most nights until after midnight and then waking up around 7am. Not too bad considering I used to operate on 4-5 hours of sleep, if that, when I was suffering from insomnia.
Basically we've all determined that we want to move, we just haven't found the “right place” yet. Everything we've looked at has been surprisingly open to all our pets, but either someone else got in a deposit before us, we hated it, or, in the case of the double a block from my work, the landlord never bothered returning our calls. After looking at it twice and showing it to Cavan, we determined we really wanted it. The landlady said she was desperate to get someone in, but after a few days of working out the application, move-in date, and deposit, she just stopped calling us back. In fact, we haven't actually heard from her since Saturday morning. Either she found someone else and isn't professional enough to tell us, or something terrible has happened and she's dead in a ditch. I hope it's the former, which would be good to know since it would give some insight as to her level of management when it comes to properties.
We made a huge laundry-list of “cons” in terms of the house in which we currently live. It was literally a page, covered in notes, with everything from “crackheads come on to your porch and ask for money, cigarettes, and booze at all hours of the night” to “mold on the side of the house and in the basement.” Parking is shitty, the neighborhood isn't particularly safe or clean, and our landlady has been jerking us around for a while about the backyard. You've heard all this before, so stop me now.
We looked at a place yesterday that's, coincidentally, two doors down from my manager's house. We saw it because we went to her 2 year-old's birthday party (you know you're getting old when . . . ). The landlady (what's up with all the women renting places now? Not to be sexist, it's just kind of weird). The double was adorable, with all the cute built-in features of older bungalows that I love, although the kitchen was really lacking in size. In fact, it's even smaller than the one we have now, which cannot comfortable fit two people without knocking elbows. But it has three separate, good-sized bedrooms, a fully finished basement with a washer and dryer and clean laundryroom, as well as a shared backyard that's actually fenced in between both sides of the double. It creates a smaller yard, but I thought it was great that she'd taken the time, energy, and money to separate the yards. She said it wouldn't be fair if someone on one side had a pet and the people on the other didn't, so it just made more sense.
Unfortunately, the girls who looked at it before us got their deposit in a few hours after we left to talk it over. We'd decided to take it when we got the call. On the other hand, the other side of the same double “might” be available in May if the tenants don't renew their lease. We should know by the first of March.
I also got a couple of responses to the ad I posted online, so there may be someone ready to move in the week after we leave. This would make things easier on the current landlady and, perhaps, ease tensions since she thinks we were planning on staying longer.
The fact of the matter is, we just don't have enough space to spread out comfortably here. Three people in a small, two-bedroom, one-bath double ain't cuttin' it. Even Cavan said his vote was in favor of moving.
When it all comes right down to it, I'm ready to get into someplace bigger and nicer, with personality and a safer neighborhood that's within walking distance to someone's work, whether it's mine, Charlie's, or Cavan's. I just don't know where or when we'll end up there, or how long we'll stay. If nothing else, we'll end up moving once again in a year when Cavan graduates and goes somewhere else. Which kinda sucks. We just can't afford the kind of place we like in the area we like. Which makes me re-consider taking that job and taking some time off from school all that much more . . .