The thing I had hoped to avoid prior to starting my new job was waiting for my move-in date. It was a task I tried my best to attack with only 12 days to find an apartment and move into it. I was optimistic the first week, but as I saw my window disappearing with no front runners, I dreaded what was bound to follow: weekend commuting between Houston and Dallas to save money on hotel costs and cramming the move-in over one of those weekends.
With 4 days left before my first day of work, my realtor asked me to revisit a property I had deemed unfit. I told him that I liked what I saw in the pictures, but the listing he pulled didn’t mention onsite or in-unit laundry. That was a dealbreaker. He pulled the newest listings and found one ready for move-in with a washer and dryer. I told him to give me a little time to look it over.
As a shopper in the world of real estate, hesitating is possibly the worst thing you can do.
I am one who treats many decisions like a game of chess; calculating strategy with best moves and outcomes. It’s a good method, but unfortunately, I’m a slow player. I had already lost a unit elsewhere for taking time to think it over. And yet again, it was my hesitation that made me lose this new unit just hours later.
Although I was frustrated and slightly panicked, there was something I promised myself through this new experience of shopping for apartments solely online. I promised that I wouldn’t rush into something that didn’t feel right. So, if I needed time to calculate the strategy and someone else swooped in and snagged my target, then it wasn’t meant to be.
I spent hours doing my own searches separately from the realtor. I found 2 properties that I adored and excitedly called about. Phone calls and emails proved ineffective in catching the attention of the management company that happened to manage both of those properties. I’ve lived in enough complexes to know how a good management company behaves and how a bad one does.
I continued to rely on the realtor’s assistance.
We returned to the earlier property where I found a layout that I liked more than the first one he pulled. It was more money than I wanted to spend per month, so I needed to be damn sure this was the apartment for me. I had the realtor find out where exactly the unit was located, what the windows were facing, how wide was the entry hall, what was this and what was that and a list of other potentially strange questions. I don’t know what sort of things other people are picky about, but if I’m upping my budget, then I need to know if my apartment is looking straight into someone else’s bedroom or an open view of the sky and some trees.
Everything added up nicely, except for the cost. But after 8 days of living and breathing apartments.com, HAR, and Zillow, I wasn’t satisfied with anything in my price range and wondered how long it would be before something satisfactory did surface. Shit or get off the pot, Kat.
Well, I took a big ass shit of faith and turned in an application. And a big ass chunk of money for an admin fee. A small weight lifted from my shoulders when I was approved a few days later… The problem? It wouldn’t be ready for 3 weeks.
I would have to do the thing I dreaded and stay in a hotel during the first few work weeks and commute on weekends, buuuut I had already accepted that as a possibility and told myself it’s fine.
Because I was not receiving relocation assistance from my new employer, I decided to try out a very inexpensive, shared Airbnb.
I was there for 1 miserable night before I asked a friend if he had any hotel freebies that could be thrown my way. It wasn’t the other bnb patrons that (completely) scared me off. No, actually, I took issue with the engine turbine for an AC unit that rendered me sleep deprived for my first day of work. Yeaaaaahhh, nooooooo.
That coupled with a lack of face-masked guests in the house didn’t entice me much to return.
Luckily, my friend came through and was able to put me up in a nice hotel through the remainder of the week. He insisted I upgrade my budget to a hotel sized one for the following week so as not to find myself in a similar predicament.
I heeded his suggestion and found a budget hotel that looked ok. While the location seemed to attract… an image problem on the outside, I spent a quiet week there without any issues. I considered staying at the same place for the following week since it seemed like such a great value. I decided to reread the reviews to compare my time spent there thus far. The best one I found, in so few brilliantly written words, explained exactly how I felt (paraphrasing); “The room was clean and I had no problems. To the negative reviewers complaining about other guests: expect Walmart shoppers when paying Walmart prices.”
Days after I began drawing up this blog post, however, I found myself at the hotel that next week feeling a bit under the weather… I’m sure you can sense the drama to ensue after a statement like that.
I phoned my employer to inform them I was feeling a bit under and I already knew they didn’t want anyone with the slightest inkling of bad health to be near the office. They were so nice about the circumstance and even insisted I go back to Houston after taking a COVID test so I could be with my family until my move-in day a week away.
Family gave the ok to come back no matter what ailed me. Awww, they love me.
I felt inexplicably fatigued, but managed the long drive without passing out.
“I hope it isn’t COVID,” was the resounding response from everyone I told I was back in Houston after falling ill. What an ominous thing to say. I didn’t feel good, but I certainly didn’t feel like it was the worst I’d ever been sick. Something I had caught in January actually felt like death knocking at my door, so imagine my surprise when I saw the big, fat, red ‘POSITIVE‘ as my test result a few days later.
PLOT TWIST!
Remember in my last post when I said, “Watch out, Dallas, I’m coming for ya?”
Bitch said, “Oh hey, here’s your welcome present.”
What a nailbiter! I decided to pause here as I’ve unsuccessfully tried to finish this post for over a week while the ramifications of my test results are still taking place.
Does Kat move to Dallas? Is she hospitalized? Does she adopt a puppy? Will she win the presidential election?
Questions to be answered in the next chapter.
