I hate apartment hunting. I hate house hunting. I just hate hunting for a place to live in general. I'm not a fan of change, much less of having to change my address every few months. I'm the type of person who likes to settle and "nest" wherever I'm living. My mom taught me how to make any place -- no matter how small -- into a home. It's a blessing and a curse really. The thing is, I get too attached to places, I get into my little routine and having my special places there, and then -- boom -- I can't see myself leaving.
Now take all of the anxiety from that last paragraph and multiply it by infinity and that's a fraction of how I feel when looking for housing at the last minute. How last minute, you may ask. Well, school starts in four weeks, so... I didn't mean for it to go on this long, but life happens, sometimes -- OK, most of the time -- not really in the way we want it to go.
They say there are stages of grief. I think they are stages for just about everything, especially anything having to do with anxiety.
Stage One: Denial
This is the blissful stage where you think that your original housing planes are going to come through and not violently burn to the ground. Don't stay in this stage for so long, it won't go well for you in the end.
Stage Two: Anger
Here you will find explosive language and unhappy thoughts. Run as fast as you can away from this stage. The people around you will thank you.
Stage Three: Bargaining
All you want is one little room in one little apartment -- is that so hard? You're a nice person, people seem to like to live with you, it can't be this hard! OK, fine, a shack on the side of the road, that's all you need. Wait, those are still $900 a month? Curse you, L.A.!
Stage Four: Depression
Why? Why is this so hard? Just one little shack, that's all, universe, that's all I need *sobs into ice cream*. What did I do in life to deserve this amount of pain? I've been a decent person, I pay my taxes, I deserve a place to live that won't cost me an arm and a leg -- and my kidney and my firstborn son *sobs into pizza box*.
Stage Five: Acceptance
OK, well, I'm just going to be homeless for next year. It's OK. I have friends who have offered couches. We can just make a rotating schedule! Do I really need a bed or running water? Nah, I'm a millennial -- we can tough it out anywhere. Oh look, an apartment for rent!
So as you can all see, I hate looking for housing, let alone at the last minute. But even through all my stages I still remain hopeful that one day, finally, I will find a place to lay my head for the 2016-2017 school year that isn't a shack.
