Nothing can take away these blues

Woke up to bad news. The first person who looked at the apartment took it. Denied.

I think we’re both depressed that we lost our apartment. The cat being gone is not helping. We found out that while we were partying in Dunkirk, she was so upset she didn’t eat for two days. This apartment seems temporary and expensive and a pain in the ass to clean and move. It’s been great but we are over it. And without my fat little sausage it’s empty and lonely.

When I look at apartments, nothing compares. It’s too far, too expensive, too generic too small. We live in a great place now so downgrading is going to be hard. Walking up 7 floors to save 20 minutes on the tram seemed like a good exchange. Now we obsessively refresh apartment listing like meth addicts. We plan on starting a movie in ten minutes, but instead sit huddled in front of our laptops searching for another elusive perfect apartment until it’s midnight and our eyes are burning.

It doesn’t help that our apartment is still popping up on rental sites. It’s like running into an ex-boyfriend that broke your heart. I can only hope and pray that the apartment stealer falls off the balcony while looking at the glittering lights on the Tour Eiffel and that it will become available again in a few months. I wasn’t ready to stop looking anyway. David and I are a good team when it comes to stuff like this.


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