what happens once you find your first apartment

It seems as though most things in my life become an ordeal.

This whole apartment thing seems to be no different. I think I just happen to me a magnet for this type of thing. I wish I would attract something better than silly mishaps and confusion. Say, cute boys? But alas, ordeals are what always seem to find me.

I thought that finding the apartment would be the hard part.

But, no. That actually seemed pretty easy. That should have been my first clue that what followed would not be so easy.

It's everything that's come after it that seems to be the difficult part.

The following is everything that happens after you get approved for that first apartment. [warning: it ain't pretty!]

Tuesday

I called to check on my application, since I mailed it off to them rather than drive 3.5 hours just to drop it off.

Apartment lady says: "oh, you're approved."

Then apartment lady proceeds to tell me that due to the summer special they were running, apartments are going fast and in order to secure one, I need to put down a deposit and fast. Especially since I am difficult and absolutely must have an apartment on the second floor.

Problem? I was leaving for Georgia on Wednesday (the next day). I tell apartment lady that I can come Saturday to look at the apartment I'll be getting and put down the deposit.

After about a dozen calls to and from the apartment on Tuesday, including talking to the manager, it's decided that I can come on Friday and pick out an apartment. And they'll try to find me one on the second floor. I was also warned that these apartments are not in showing condition, but they'll make an exception for me.

Saturday

Suckered my mother into coming with me. Even though we'd spent the last 3 days in the car, including 8+ hour drives to Georgia.

We drove 3 hours to the other coast, missing exactly one toll booth (which resulted in me sending a check for ONE dollar to the toll booth people instead of a $100 fine) and arrived in record time, just after they opened.

Meet with frazzled, hair-brained apartment complex lady. This lady was a mess. An absolute mess.

Apartment lady shows me a giant map of the apartment complex and tells me to pick which building I'd like to live in. I pick one. Second floor, corner unit. Sounds perfect!

We go to look at the building. The apartment? Not on the second floor. She discovers one in that building that is on the second floor, so we go to look at it. It's not a corner unit, but center. I can deal with that. It has brand new carpet, it's getting a new fridge. Works for me!

After returning to the office, she is surprised to find that apartment is already taken. Shucks!

She sends my mother and I out to choose between two other buildings, both with center units on the second floor.

When we get back, we're left with only one choice. One of two apartments is on the first floor. Go figure.

We go to look at this apartment with apartment lady. It is an absolute, disgusting mess. I was warned beforehand that this would be the case and I'd like to believe I have a pretty high tolerance for things as this. But this was just awful.

I can see past that all, though. I can see past the dirty linoleum. The filthy kitchen. The dusty light fixtures. All of it.

Only.

I cant see past the absolutely disgusting carpet which apartment lady isn't sure is going to be replaced. I mean, I could get over the stains and the snags with a few area rugs and a runner (hello bird runner at Pottery Barn!) But what I cannot get over is the way the air conditioner leaks water right onto the carpet. Into one big, sloppy puddle in the hall.

That just wont do.

But. I don't have any other options. If I want an apartment and I want to live on the second floor (safety reasons, you understand. I'm a single, young female), then it's this apartment.

I give apartment lady my deposit. Pray that she doesn't lose it. And am assured with promises that she'll talk to the maintenance manager about replacing the carpet and call me back as soon as she hears from him.

Thursday

Still no word from apartment lady about the carpet.

I cannot stand the anticipation any longer and call the apartment myself.

Different lady answers the phone. I ask about the carpet. She tells me to hold. Comes back, tells me that yes, they are replacing the carpet.

Yes! New carpet. New linoleum. New fridge. New microwave.

Perfect.

Only. New apartment lady asks me what old apartment lady told me the rent was.

I tell her. She hesitates. I start to freak.

She says she'll look into it and call me back. It's 20 minutes to closing time for their office.

She never calls me back.

I go on a killer run to try not to freak out and have a heart attack. The new rent is $125 more than the discounted rate I was told. There's nothing like getting your first apartment on sale.

The run doesn't do the trick. I make cookie dough. Make 6-ish cookies and eat the dough.

Continue to freak out.

Friday

11:30am and still no word from the apartment. I call them myself, prepared to fight tooth and nail to get the discounted rent.

New apartment lady answers. I remind her who I am. She puts me on hold to get my file. Comes back and tells me that yes, I am getting the discounted rate.

I tell her thanks for giving me a freaking heart attack and causing me to eat cookie dough; I'll see you in August.

*Above photo taken on the way up Mount Vesuvius. Really, if I think working out all the kinks for this apartment is hard, I should just remember trying to climb up a volcano.