Week Twenty-Seven: On House Hunting, Goals, and Love Interests
Right now, it is almost four in the afternoon, the window is open and it is pouring rain outside. There's a burrito'd dog at my feet, snuggled and cozy, snoring the day away. Despite the chaos as of late, life is good for the moment.
I want to spend some time for this weeks blog talking about a few things.
One, I'm not sure if I've mentioned my whole housing situation. I honestly can't remember if I've talked about this previously so if I have, sorry! Back in June, after literal months of searching, I found an apartment that was below my budget, close to work, accepted dogs, etc. Come to find out maybe a short week after I moved in that the landlord was in the process of selling the complex to another property management company, who, funny enough, didn't offer us a lease renewal at the end of August.
Suffice to say it's been an absolute clusterfuck. There's a possibility my roommate and I may be able to stay here for an increased rate or at least in the same area. The new company is sinking an unknown amount of money into gutting and renovating some of the apartments in our complex so they have the wiggle room to increase the rent a whole frick ton. So far, it's nebulous as to whether we'll stay in our current unit or have to move everything into a different unit so they can begin renovations on ours sooner.
The frustrating thing about this whole scenario is how much I didn't want to move again. In fact, during my first meeting with Brett, that was one of the things we openly discussed is how much I wanted to stay in one place for a while. Ideally, I'd like to find a place that I can stay at for several years before I'm eventually ready to buy a house. Now, with the rent increasing and the possibility of having to find yet another place to live in a short six weeks from now, whatever long-term housing plans I have may be totally kiboshed.
So, Brett and I are kind of on the house hunt again. At least for the time being, it wouldn't hurt to be semi-proactive even if it means we'll be ultimately staying here or in the vicinity.
Moving on!
The year is more than half over now (How? How the hell did that happen?!) which means that I've been looking at my #30Before30 list again and evaluating the things that I still have to accomplish. Realistically, I think there are some items on my list that I'm just not going to complete and I have to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for that shortcoming. As I so often do with tasks, I think I overshot and gave myself too much.
For one, I haven't even touched my novel in actual months. Not to mention that even if wanted to try and finish it this year, the last time I went over it, the story was complete and utter garbage and needed to be completely reworked. From top to bottom it's a dumpster fire that could probably use a heaping amount of kerosene before being even remotely considered a worthwhile read.
On top of not having touched my novel for a million years, I'm months behind on my reading goal. I finished approximately one book this year. One. I gave up on the second one halfway through because it started to bore me largely because I just wasn't actively engaging in the story. Somehow, in the last several years of my life, I became a person that talked about reading and how much I enjoy it to never actually doing so. When did I start rationalizing away my free time to avoid sitting down with a good book? I have, however, given myself the task of attempting to start up that momentum again by starting a book club with my co-workers. Maybe that will motivate me enough to start treating my mind the way I treat my body health (which, unsurprisingly, has also been lacking lately).
There are about a thousand things that I could probably to do rectify those goals that will likely be left unaccomplished by the end of the year but even if I don't finish them, that's okay. This project was intended as a challenge and sometimes you don't always meet the expectations you set for yourself.
Finally, the last and perhaps most interesting thing I have going on in my life is a new crush (oh, and don't even get me started about how much I loathe this phrasing! It feels so juvenile). It has been a long, long time since I've dated seriously. For perspectives sake, the last time I had a serious partner was before we had an openly sexist Cheeto in the oval office. Yes, that long. It was only recently, within perhaps the last couple of months, that I've even been overcome with that inkling of wanting to date. Though I have gone on dates since my last partner, it's been approximately 866 days since I've even entertained the notion of having a serious boyfriend again.
Here's the stick though: I kind of have no idea what I'm doing. Normally, my penchant for open communication would be a benefit but for whatever unknown reason, my tongue seems tied, my uncertainty at the helm steering my action of nervousness and want. Is the fear of rejection guiding my lack of confidence? Probably. What do I plan on doing about it? No damn idea. A handful of my close friends have been in my corner cheering me on and encouraging whatever will come of this new-ish infatuation but I seem stuck in the limbo of inaction.
Frankly, the whole ordeal makes me feel inept and incredibly awkward. I am nearly thirty. It shouldn't be this hard to just say "Hey, you're cool. I think we get along. Want to go out sometime?" And yet, despite how incredibly verbose I tend to be, my unwillingness to face possible rejection is holding me back. I seem to read into everything under the sun for why I shouldn't risk the possibility it won't turn out.
When and how did I turn into someone so full of doubt?! It's too bad I'm not a mind reader. That would make this whole thing a hell of lot easier.
Until next week.
I want to spend some time for this weeks blog talking about a few things.
One, I'm not sure if I've mentioned my whole housing situation. I honestly can't remember if I've talked about this previously so if I have, sorry! Back in June, after literal months of searching, I found an apartment that was below my budget, close to work, accepted dogs, etc. Come to find out maybe a short week after I moved in that the landlord was in the process of selling the complex to another property management company, who, funny enough, didn't offer us a lease renewal at the end of August.
Suffice to say it's been an absolute clusterfuck. There's a possibility my roommate and I may be able to stay here for an increased rate or at least in the same area. The new company is sinking an unknown amount of money into gutting and renovating some of the apartments in our complex so they have the wiggle room to increase the rent a whole frick ton. So far, it's nebulous as to whether we'll stay in our current unit or have to move everything into a different unit so they can begin renovations on ours sooner.
 |
| Merida understands my plight |
So, Brett and I are kind of on the house hunt again. At least for the time being, it wouldn't hurt to be semi-proactive even if it means we'll be ultimately staying here or in the vicinity.
Moving on!
The year is more than half over now (How? How the hell did that happen?!) which means that I've been looking at my #30Before30 list again and evaluating the things that I still have to accomplish. Realistically, I think there are some items on my list that I'm just not going to complete and I have to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for that shortcoming. As I so often do with tasks, I think I overshot and gave myself too much.
For one, I haven't even touched my novel in actual months. Not to mention that even if wanted to try and finish it this year, the last time I went over it, the story was complete and utter garbage and needed to be completely reworked. From top to bottom it's a dumpster fire that could probably use a heaping amount of kerosene before being even remotely considered a worthwhile read.
On top of not having touched my novel for a million years, I'm months behind on my reading goal. I finished approximately one book this year. One. I gave up on the second one halfway through because it started to bore me largely because I just wasn't actively engaging in the story. Somehow, in the last several years of my life, I became a person that talked about reading and how much I enjoy it to never actually doing so. When did I start rationalizing away my free time to avoid sitting down with a good book? I have, however, given myself the task of attempting to start up that momentum again by starting a book club with my co-workers. Maybe that will motivate me enough to start treating my mind the way I treat my body health (which, unsurprisingly, has also been lacking lately).
There are about a thousand things that I could probably to do rectify those goals that will likely be left unaccomplished by the end of the year but even if I don't finish them, that's okay. This project was intended as a challenge and sometimes you don't always meet the expectations you set for yourself.
Finally, the last and perhaps most interesting thing I have going on in my life is a new crush (oh, and don't even get me started about how much I loathe this phrasing! It feels so juvenile). It has been a long, long time since I've dated seriously. For perspectives sake, the last time I had a serious partner was before we had an openly sexist Cheeto in the oval office. Yes, that long. It was only recently, within perhaps the last couple of months, that I've even been overcome with that inkling of wanting to date. Though I have gone on dates since my last partner, it's been approximately 866 days since I've even entertained the notion of having a serious boyfriend again.
Here's the stick though: I kind of have no idea what I'm doing. Normally, my penchant for open communication would be a benefit but for whatever unknown reason, my tongue seems tied, my uncertainty at the helm steering my action of nervousness and want. Is the fear of rejection guiding my lack of confidence? Probably. What do I plan on doing about it? No damn idea. A handful of my close friends have been in my corner cheering me on and encouraging whatever will come of this new-ish infatuation but I seem stuck in the limbo of inaction.
Frankly, the whole ordeal makes me feel inept and incredibly awkward. I am nearly thirty. It shouldn't be this hard to just say "Hey, you're cool. I think we get along. Want to go out sometime?" And yet, despite how incredibly verbose I tend to be, my unwillingness to face possible rejection is holding me back. I seem to read into everything under the sun for why I shouldn't risk the possibility it won't turn out.
I found him on Bumble and we didn't match. That's probably a sign, right? Oh, he asked for my number but hasn't messaged me all week. I'm sure he just wants to be friends. Maybe it's better for me to not say anything so I don't jeopardize our friendship. What if he doesn't reciprocate? What if it ruins our friendship and he stops hanging out? What if the idea is so laughably insane that he literally laughs at me?
When and how did I turn into someone so full of doubt?! It's too bad I'm not a mind reader. That would make this whole thing a hell of lot easier.
Until next week.
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