Househunting is very stressful. We saw a place this evening that’s really excellently gorgeous, well located (like a 5 minute walk from Ted’s work), and the landlord would be very happy to rent to a nice couple who want somewhere to live for several years. He lives right next door. I have this peculiar discomfort with living right next door to the landlord. Like I’d want to keep my curtains drawn all the time or something, so he can’t peek in. He didn’t seem to object to the cats, though he’d obviously prefer we didn’t have them, and in general he seemed very nice, so I don’t know if it’s just tiredness and stress making me feel this way and we’d be fools to not rent it, or what. I want to go back tomorrow when I’m less tired and walk from it to the Mardyke Arena and see what kind of walk it’d be, and…to just try to get my head on straight, I guess. And I’m cranky about having to move at all because it’s going to be expensive, and…well, it’s going to be expensive. *grumpy face*
I’m further stressed (and pissed) by the fact that the real estate agency said “pick a day of the week and we’ll show it then” and I called yesterday to say Wednesdays would probably be best, and then got a phone call this afternoon (which I missed, because I’d forgotten my phone) wanting to show the house tomorrow morning. First off, mornings are really bad for me in general, because that’s when I work, and second, Friday is not like Wednesday, and third, the house is not in any condition to be shown, and fourth, they’re supposed to give 24 hours’ notice, which calling at 3:15pm for a morning appointment is not doing anyway. And tomorrow’s my goddamned birthday and I don’t want to have to deal with any of that kind of shit tomorrow.
The book, she said irritably, is going well, all things considered. :p