31 August 2006

A Room Of My Own

Despite the occasional moment of quarterlife crisis, I’ve had very little trouble adjusting to life as an adult. I show up for work on time, pay my bills, appear in places I said I would be, remember to feed the cat, buy milk, change the oil in the car, take out the garbage, buy city stickers, mop the kitchen floor, and even occasionally call my little brother. It has been a fairly easy transition, likely because there are very few obstacles of this ilk that I couldn’t have handled at the age of 14.

Still though, there are certain events in the life of a twenty-something that never fail to make me feel like a child. One such occurrence is finding a new apartment. I’m honestly appalled that I could be allowed to decide on a place to live without the approval of at least one other person. I would guess that having a child feels the same way.

On top of that little insecurity, I had possibly the least helpful agent at Apartment People “helping” me yesterday. They didn’t really have much in their listings that fit my criteria, which is fine. I know they get new apartments every day, and I’m still a little bit on the early side. Instead of politely suggesting some other neighborhoods I might think about and telling me to call back next week, he gave me a frown and a frustrated sigh, made a big production out of showing me a couple of places that he knew weren’t even close, and said, “I can’t find anything. I think your budget’s wrong. What do we do?”

I don’t know what we do, you jackass, but it might help if you had an iota of kindness or at least a working knowledge of the city to go on. I’ve been checking Craigslist and asking other people what they pay for months, so please don’t dismiss me with “there aren’t any apartments in the city like that.” I know you’re just an insensitive jerk who would give anything for a real job, but you make me feel like I have no business trying to be an adult. As a friend says, thanks for being not nice for no reason and ruining my day.


*also, to whoever wrote me about blogging on the golf site, I'd be happy to help you, but as you didn't leave an email address, I have no way to contact you. Leave me a comment with your email (no one else will see it if I don't publish it) and I'll write back.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I HATE when people aren't nice for no reason. I was just discussing that with a friend this evening. Good luck with the apartment hunting-- I'm sure something will turn up that's perfect, when the time is right.