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March 23, 2000
Happy, happy, worry, worry...
I signed the lease on the Wonderful Apartment last night. I went to the rental agency after work, intending only to drop off a deposit, fully prepared to spend the next few days worrying about the credit check and such, waiting to hear from the landlord. When I walked in, Rick the rental agent had a great big grin on his face. He said "I'm so glad you're here! You've got the place! Your credit is perfect, and the landlord is on his way over here with the lease!" So I paid the deposit, waited around until the landlord, Scott, arrived, and signed the lease. Scott wrote it up himself, so it's very detailed and includes everything we discussed when we looked at the apartment. It's also a very fair lease, which is nice. After I signed it, while Rick was sweating over the adding machine, trying to work out how much money we still need to pay, Scott leaned over to me and said "I have to tell you, I'm really glad you guys are renting the apartment. I was really hoping you would decide to take it. I think you'll be very happy there." Wow. I smiled and said "I'm sure we will be, too -- it's such a beautiful place," all the while pinching a big bruise on my leg, trying to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Poor Barry was stuck at work, having a hellish afternoon, so I called and got his permission to sign the lease for him. He missed all the fun. We'll be moving over the weekend before May 1... I can't wait.
I'm so relieved, I feel just... limp. Not knowing where you're going to live is a horrible feeling. I get really insecure when any little bit of chaos enters my little life -- I like stability, dammit, and when something is out of whack, I am NOT happy. I worry far too much. But the sick thing is, I worry when there's nothing to worry about. "There are no problems to deal with, everything's fine... something's going to go terribly, terribly wrong, I can sense it." Drives Barry up a wall. Drives ME up a wall. But I can't seem to help it. I worry all the way to work whether I've left the coffee pot on, or a light on... "I left the bathroom light on. The wiring in that house is terrible. The house is going to burn down!" I worry irrationally that I'll los my job. If Barry is more than half an hour late getting home, I worry that he's been in an accident. I'm amazed I don't have gray hairs yet. Well, I can worry about that, I suppose
Posted by Mary Ellen at March 23, 2000 12:41 PM