How scary is the thought that at this point of next month, I might not have my own place to live in? Me being a total control freak, who is attempting, somewhat successfully, to let things happen as they might and to let go of all of the reigns…it’s a horrible, crushing, panic-inducing feeling.
I’ve looked into eight apartments, now and none of them will be anything more than honest, which I appreciate, about the fact that my shitty credit rating will not allow them to rent to me; two others didn’t even reply to my email. Why is my credit rating so shitty? Well, I used to live with an alcoholic who was easier to appease than not. I enabled him and that meant that shit didn’t get paid. A lot. Past the point of bankruptcy.
And everything was in my name, so I’m the one screwed over, with a child to house, as well. He has a mom to live with indefinitely, if need be. But, I’m not really spewing resentment towards him because I allowed those bills to go unpaid – I lived the past that caused this present.
But, ugh, the thought of not finding a new home for us, and having to live with my mom until we do find one? Frightening. I don’t know what it would be like, but I do know that I do not live well with others in confined spaces wherein I have little control over the environment.
But, this is what I’m thinking: even if we don’t find the perfect place, even if it’s in the suburbs (outside of the neighbourhood I’m targeting), even if it’s kind of dingy and yucky, Isobel and I will make the best of it.
Cuz that’s what we do. We rock shit, yo.
