fair warning: this post is going to be chock full of whining and bitching and will probably be boring for you. it won’t be eloquent, or refined, or wise.
so i’m looking to move in with the bouncer. i am happiest when i am with him, i think he is happiest when he is with me, we’ve weathered our fair share of a rocky road and i think we’ve come out the other side stronger. we’ve talked about it long and hard, we’ve discussed all of the nitty gritty things, because we are practical in romantic things, and we’re ready. it’s time.
first there was our own struggle of figuring out how to rectify what we each wanted and have any hope of still finding a place. these five boroughs are very large and encompass a range of wealth and class that is honestly mind-blowing. after we jumped those hurdles, we dove in.
he did before i did. the prospect of this search has been a weight on me and i knew it was going to be hard. i knew we weren’t going to have a ton of options, i knew we’d probably have to look at several things that didn’t meet our criteria in one way or another before we found one that did. he jumped in and began sending me listings, i freaked out a bit, but i was heartened by the hard work he was doing and really didn’t want to be the slacker.
i’ve been at this for four days and i am crying. there’s the obstacle of money – what is affordable is typically in a places where i’d only feel comfortable walking down the street if i grew a foot in height and a penis. there are beautiful places that are $200 more than our limit and you wonder if you can really pull that off, maybe – but you can’t. and what you can afford is probably crappy in some way.
then there’s the deception. beautiful pictures that are either taken over a year ago (one yard picture showed us SOD. when we arrived, the grass was at knee height or better). beautiful picture that are of completely different apartments. apartments that advertise a yard and take pets, but tell you when you arrive that your pet is not allowed in the yard.
people are mean and rude. forget kindness, they don’t even have common courtesy – they are harsh and abrupt and inconsiderate. a broker today did not ask me over the phone my projected move date, which he promptly rejected and told me he’d have nothing for me for another two weeks. no, he waited until i trekked out to his office to tell me this, while i’d rejected viewing another listing because of my appointment with him.
it is literally a nightmare – i am tired and worn out and stressed. the bouncer tells me to take a break but i know taking a break isn’t going to get this done. it’s all we’re talking or thinking about, and it’s a lot of energy to throw at something that is giving you zero return – most of what we’ve seen makes me shrug. i have loved nothing, and barely liked everything else. i don’t have brainpower or time for anything else.
i hate this shit. i am just hating this shit so hard.