Also published for my other blog, Gen. Y on L.I.
When you live in a hotel with no clear plans on when you’re leaving, your life ends up in this weird limbo.
The most obvious is not having an address. Sure, we can use the address for our hotel, but without knowing how long we’re going to be here, it’s not the best choice. Another option is having my mail sent to the office. That would be great if my job wasn’t moving to another location in a couple of weeks.
Chuck and I went hunting for a permanent address yesterday. We had a handful of properties that we planned on checking out, but in the end, we only toured three. One was out of our price range, but one month free put it below. The other two were below our budget but when you threw in all utilities and pet rent all three became the same price.
It came down to which one we liked more. There was the woodsy place with the big bedrooms, big bathrooms and big kitchens, but was more than we could afford. The place next door was so small-town I felt like I was entering a commune for a cult.The last – off a busy street – was great, but our prospective unit lacked a fireplace and outdoor space.
We went with the woodsy place and decided to put our first month’s rent in the bank to put towards the rest of the year. It was the right fit.
I wish the application process was as easy.
The problem with applying for an apartment when you’re broke is, you’re broke. With only one income right now we have to rely on our savings to help pay the bills. The property managers seemed okay with this since they were willing to take proof our savings to supplement our meager income. It hasn’t been an easy process and despite getting a “welcome letter” I’m still worried that we’ll be without a home.
Chuck spent all day looking up tutoring services and scouring North Raleigh for Help Wanted signs in windows.
All we want is a chance and a place to come home to.