No word about the room yet. My stomach hurts. At this point I have been praying to every god and saint there is about this place. It's just that good and I want it that bad.
I couldn't even concentrate at the internship today. I kept envisioning the apartment and the room, and the huge bed that could be mine. I am worried that she thinks I am too young (because there is an ordnance about guest. That being NO OVERNIGHT GUEST) and that I will have wild parties in the apartment when the children aren't there (I did mention that the apartment is a daycare center in the morning. Right?) I am worried that she didn't see that I was and am completely in love with that place and the space and the peace of mind it offers.
Dear god don't fail me now. I tried to get my mind off of the apartment situation from time to time. This was made incredibly easy today because I had to edit a very explicit romance novel. Apparently Highlanders are freaky lovers and if I ever happen to run into one, remind me to protect my 'little passion pearl". I swear to bob, that is the exactly phrase used in the manuscript. Passion Pearl.
Me and the Janitor had a falling out last week. I think he was embarrassed about confiding in me about the cat situation so he ignored me for the whole week. As if I wold rub it in his face that he was sad and needed someone to talk too. Boys are weird. Because of this any day dreams at the internship have come to a halt. But today, via the help of passion pearls and fit Highlanders, he popped in my head briefly. If I am learning anything from this internships, it's that romance is a weird genre where the sex scenes are so dramatic and fanciful you can't help but get lost in them.
I need to get lost for a while. Just for a little while. If it takes my mind off of more important real life issues.
I sent an email to my potential landlord, stressing the fact that I am madly deeply in love with the apartment and I am willing to pay the deposit now to secure the room. I don't play around when it comes to things I want. I hope, I hope, I hope I get this place. I don't even mind that I can't bring Highlanders back to my apartment for overnight slumber parties. I just want to be in that apartment, with the bay window, and the old wooden doors, and the nice light.
Fingers crossed.
*Postscript* The landlord said she choose a tenant closer to Carrie's age (the other lady living there who is in her early 60's). Age discrimination much! So someone a lot older got my dream apartment. Does New York hate me or what?
3 comments:
Sorry; the room did sound pretty awesome.
I didn't really stop by to console--you will move on, no doubt. You always do.
I dropped by to give you the link to this chick. There is something in her voice that reminded me of you, and it was a little overwhelming not to share. Have you been letting people borrow your soul again? Bad Hughes, bad.
http://katieeyoung.blogspot.com/
I may be waaaay off here, but give her a quick read if you get the chance--and good luck finding a place.
Okay, I was a little off. You have better taste in movies--and music ;)
And I don't think you're a Mormon.
But still, looks like you in a parallel universe--or something...
Now for something completely different: A student once asked me how did i like this sentence.
" The chick-a-dee flitted from one tree to the next with joyful nasal beeping."
And for the life of me, I do not recall how I answered!
My wife thinks I must have gone running, screaming from the room with baleful creepy shreiking!
Be well.
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