On Tuesday morning, our landlord strolled by to casually announce that he decided to sell the house we're living in. Furthermore, he has already accepted an offer. Basically, we're out of a house. Which could be a good thing, seeing as how the heat doesn't work ("try to turn it up, man, I want you guys to be comfortable"), the electricity was shut off in the common areas (who needs a light to see a keyhole at night?), and, of course, the recently discovered patch - no, forest - of mold growing in our bathroom that doesn't seem to concern him in the least. But seeing as how this is Boston, land of high rent, where we don't have much money and have a pet or two, well, no, actually three -- it's a bit difficult to find a place right quick.
Which brings me to today. We searched all over craigslist and found a few that fit our limiting criteria. One man e-mailed us back of the several, and we set up an appointment for 7:30 pm. As we arrived, we noted the proximity of the train tracks (backyard), the screaming and fighting neighbors, and the presence of a pitbull. Still, we sat on the cracked post by the front door and waited. And waited. And, yes, we waited. He was a no show. Is that a bad sign?
Friday Five: Self-Care
5 days ago