Immediately he said, "But I thought you liked this place!" I mean, duh, I love this place, it was the first place that we picked out together. But when we moved in, we had always planned that I would find a 9-5 job. However, I only ever found part time work, which in a way I'm happy about. If I had gotten a full-time job, I would have gotten comfortable, and would not have decided to go for my master's degree. So we are making the bills, but we don't have a lot left over for many fun things or to save for our future & honeymoon (which just happens to be to WRASHINGTON, D.C. (Oh, the conversations I will have with grandma!) I dropped the subject, hoping what I had said would eventually sink into that stubborn head of his.
I brought the subject up a few weeks later, and he was still dead set against it. But then one morning I stumbled out of bed to find an email from Adam at work that said, "You can rub this in my face till the end of time, but I think you were right about moving..." When I read "you were right," a million angels appeared and starting singing Hallelujah! (True Story). I decided to be the bigger person and not do the, "I'm right and you were wrong dance." Well....I didn't do it when he was at home.
Adam began the hunt, and turned up nothing. Because there is one type of discrimination that is overlooked in this world, and that is golden retriever discrimination. Sarah is the kindest, sweetest, most well-behaved, most well-trained, and laziest dog in the whole world. She sleeps all day, doesn't bark, and would never bite. But try telling a landlord that an 85 lb dog won't be any trouble, and then watch their head spin around and around . The big problem I have with people not wanting to let their renters have big dogs is this: little dogs can be just as/or more destructive than big dogs. So all our conversations with prospective landlords went like this, "She is a big dog, but just hear me out..." My dog she comes with a disclaimer.
I had lined up 3 appointments to see some places that would take Sarah (who gets it done, I do). The first place we saw was a beautiful 1920's duplex. It had beautiful laminate floors, newly painted walls, and faux marble floors in the kitchen. There is a place to park behind the house, so we no longer have to deal with street parking. It is nicely shaded, so it never gets very hot. It has this cute/funny little dining nook in the kitchen that actually contains a booth from an old Subway shop. Sounds weird, but it is pretty cute. We took the house.
So apparently I have a knack for finding green houses, and the outside looks a lot like our old cottage.
365 days ago (give or take):
I hiccuped for 30 minutes straight; I hiccuped through the phone call to Adam in which I told him about the spider as big as my FIST that I let get away (I wasn’t going to tell him the actual size of the spider, it would make the story seem less TRAUMATIZING). I had to remind him that because I had let the spider get away, when I went to bed that night I wouldn’t be able to sleep because I would imagine I felt that spider crawling on me all night long.
I have trouble sleeping the night after I see a spider STILL, I always feel like they are crawling all over me.