Home, sweet, home.


Today I reached the holy grail of rental searching. I’d been denied the keys to a certain property by the StrictReceptionist but when I came back to return my first round of keys, StrictReceptionist was on lunch. I, innocently, asked SmileyReceptionist if the keys were available and she passed them over and said “Yeah, you’re supposed to have an agent with you, but, y’know. Whatever.” Act cool, act cool, I thought as I gleefully did a little happy dance in my head.

The perceived inaccessibility of the apartment gave me high expectations. However, the keys only opened the door slightly and it was stuck so hard that I was ready to give up…until I noticed the ground floor window open. Halfway through the climbing in (which my skinny jeans made a tad difficult), I pondered whether I really wanted to live in a place where the window would be my main access. As it was, it turned out to be dungeon, so, that solved that dilemma. 

The next few places weren’t much better. I was *almost* going to ring my boyfriend and ask if he wanted to upgrade our price range from ‘cheap & nasty’ to ‘barely livable’. Until I found The Place. It’s old. It’s cheap. It’s spacious. It’s extremely close to uni. I want. I want. I want. 

Now we play the waiting game.


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