apartment hunting has to be the worst thing ever.

okay, so first of all, I really love the finer things in life. And we all know that based on my cooking habits I’m not about to settle for a sub-par kitchen. And a gross bathroom = a bitter Haleigh. I want sunlight. I want to be right in the center of downtown Phoenixville. I want to live alone. I want, want, want.

it’s exhausting to try and please me. I’m never satisfied. God bless all those who’ve tried. I can’t even handle myself right now, honestly.

so I’ve been looking at these apartments, pining after the ones I can only afford if I have a roommate, and I don’t have a roommate because no one else is able or willing to commit to a year lease right now. But this really is the most frustrating part because I can have exactly what I want if I forgo living alone. Which is fine…it’s not fine at all but I want a nice kitchen, k?

I found the perfect apartment but it’s at my budget’s utmost ceiling, and the location is actually not ideal. It’s really not perfect. But what is perfect? There is so much sunlight. And the kitchen is so beautiful. I want it so badly. But I’m not the one shelling out $3300 to lock in my spot (thanks Dad, you are the, so I can’t just pull the trigger and make this happen. I have to get parental approval.

I’m 22 years old and I need my parents’ permission to get an apartment.

What is my life?

ugh, but I am so thankful they’re helping me out, otherwise I’d be living in a box for the summer trying to save (ha! what’s a save?) to pay first month, last month, security deposits and associated “give us more money” fees. I can’t live in a box. My shampoo costs $25, people. My mascara is $28. I’m not cut out for “roughing it.” I’m a diva. A princess. Don’t you forget it.

but oh wow, does my story get worse. I have no apartment right now, my lease is ending June 1, my job wants me to start on Monday, yes like, in three days, which will put me in Philly every day next week from like o’dark thirty in the morning to o’dark thirty at night so searching next week is about as likely as winning the lottery.

in an attempt to be objective and even-keel about this, I have been looking around diligently. I scheduled a handful of viewings, all of which I have to cancel now because I can’t make them anymore. I texted a stranger on craigslist, call me Jessica Day. I never texted the person back because I just can’t live with living with someone I met through craigslist. That just sounds like the start to a horror movie I have no desire to take part in.

why is this so impossible?

my email is overrun with landlords and property management companies getting back to me about places. I can’t keep it straight anymore. I don’t know where I have looked, where I haven’t looked, I don’t know which place is which. I’m frantically clicking “request more information!” and “schedule a viewing!” and this is all going to come crashing down into my lap hard and fast, very, very soon.

I just want to take the well-lit, fancy shower, wonderfully updated kitchen-possessing apartment I found and be done. It has a closet system! I can have a dalmatian! The first month’s rent is free! It has a parking lot! It would have been perfect except for where it is and how much it costs, and like those are probably more important. Or are they? I don’t even know.





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