Moving Time - Again

I am about to be homeless in twelve days.  That's right, homeless.  No, I am not being evicted and I am not a bad tenant.  The situation is much more depressing (or much more humorous depending on how you look at it) than that.  Let me start by saying that my current lease is not so much a lease as a month-to-month "agreement".  Let me also state that I totally and completely love my current living situation.  Yes, the whole thing is most unfortunate indeed.

My landlord has been in a long-term relationship for the past several years.  Now one may wonder what my landlord's personal life has to do with my living situation.  In fact, his personal life seems to have a lot to do with my living situation.  You see, on Halloween, my landlord and his girlfriend decided that enough was enough and they would no longer be seeing each other.  It just so happens they live together.  You can probably see the issue here.  So on the first of November we were told we had until the first of December to relocate.  Well actually, the two of us on the main floor were told to relocate and the two in the basement can continue to inhabit the house - lucky them!  Suddenly, that whole "convenient" month-to-month thing doesn't seem so convenient.

So what's a girl to do?  Play "Parent Trap" and get my landlord back together with his ladylove?  Move in with the other displaced roommate you say?  Nope, Cor is moving in with his parents and I am certainly not Hayley Mills or Lindsey Lohan (even in her cute, innocent, nonlesbian years).  So the two downstairs have a place to live and Cor has a place to live.  Shit, that leaves me in a dire predicament.  After asking, looking, crying and begging it seems that finding a place to live is less than easy.  A lot of this has to do with the fact that I am in a college town and it is the middle of the semester.  Basically, no one is moving right now so openings are few and far between.  On top of few openings, those that are available are either shit holes or way out of my price range.  I'd live in a shit hole, but because I'm looking at studios and will be living alone it seems less than prudent to live in an apartment with a door that would be no match for a toddler with a sandbox shovel.  Just my thoughts.

Then today I found the perfect little place.  Light, airy, cute and all utilities included.  I walked back into the property management company totally relieved as I requested to put in an application.

"Oh yeah, um, I forgot to tell you before I gave you that key, but some girl is already pretty much renting it.  She just has to bring her deposit in before closing today.  Basically that's like nine-tenths rented pretty much."

Mother effing douche fuck.  Sweet, that information would have been really great before I'd imagined how cute my antique, green velvet sofa would look against the west wall.  Thank you so freaking much for that consideration.

So if posting stops suddenly in December you'll know why.  I don't have wireless Internet in my car after all.