Wednesday, February 01, 2006

 
So then there's the matter of where we're gonna live.

I hate apartment-hunting. Left to my own devices, I get stuck with tiny little drafty boxes in buildings with fascinating cross-sections of humanity. It always seems that when I'm apartment-hunting on my own, it's at a time when I'm working long hours with seemingly longer commutes, and having to schlep to these places without a car.

Fortunately this time, despite the similar employment/transportation situation, Angie has been putting her considerable skills to hunting down leads and making appointments, so that I don't have to put everyone around me out too much. Debbie was a big help too, arranging to see a couple of place in her and Scott's (and Liam's!) building.

And as of today, barring any forgotten skeletons in our credit closet (more about that in a bit), I think we got us a place. Paperwork has been filled out, money has changed hands, all that's left is to, y'know, see the place and sign.

We had been told about an apartment on the ground floor of the building, that's a bit bigger but not too much more expensive than what we have now (and if I could simply bring that apartment down with me, I so would). But there was some variation on that old game involving walnut shells and a pea, and now we're on the third floor--we're-a movin on up!--in number 314.

Which, oddly enough, was the number of our first apartment in BC. Unit 314, the Pi Palace. Mmm, pi.



Oh, and I left my Canadian ATM card in the machine this morning. They found it, and I'm getting it back saturday, but man, you see why I need people doing the thinking for me?


Copyright 2004 Rich Bowen

Comments:
Found out why the ole landlord(lady actually, but she prefers to be called landlord. . . strange really) had not called you back to look at the other apartments in our block of flats. See the owners plan on selling the dump (sans any real work on the joint) and they got it in theri heads to ask $1100 for those apartments that were scarcely worth 900.

So that end of the plot drops off the map.

Cest la vie!!!

Jen noose say qua?!?!
 
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