Dear Secret Blogiary,
Clearly, I have been spoiled by my expansive 1,700 square feet of living space. By bedrooms that are like vast caverns. By kitchens that three or more people can be in at one time.
Spoiled. I admit it.
The apartment I looked at with its supposed 1,400 square feet was such a disappointment. Everything was squashed and dark. The layout was long and narrow, dark and cramped. The only room that wasn’t was the dining room. The bedrooms barely fit the bed and dresser (yes it was still furnished – the current tenant was not yet moved out). The walls were dingy and I was told that the carpets would be cleaned but the owner was not going to repaint. Ick.
I tried to think positively about it. Remember, I told myself, location and price, both of with are good. Except…
When I called Mister W to let him know about it, he asked if it was a place that I could live with for the long term. And I hesitated just a second before I answered, “I guess.”
“Well, that’s that,” Mister W said.
“What?” I asked.
“You paused first. It won’t work. You won’t be happy with it.” He said.
“I-”
“Honey,” he said, “Just keep looking when you get home. We’ll find something.” He reassured.
“But-” I protested.
“Location and price aren’t worth you being unhappy.”
It shouldn’t surprise me anymore, but I am constantly amazed at how well he knows and tolerates me.
Spoiled. That’s what I am.
UPDATE: Went with Mister W to look at another apartment today in the neighborhood next to the one I looked at alone. Much, much nicer. Slightly bigger. And we decided to go ahead and put in an application for it. Crossing my fingers and holding my breath.
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