outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fish out of but surrounded by water Hello, unemployment, my old friend. If it was an adventure we wanted (and it wasn't, really), it sure is an adventure we got. We have deposited our existence gingerly on this temporary other-person's-residence, and we are making do. No one has burst into tears yet, or cursed the other's existence, or called the cops on anybody, so far so good on all that. But we are definitely biding our time. The housing around here suuuuucks. Not only in availability, which is minimal, and pricing, which is (despite being half of what we were paying in California at worst, or a third at best) still not all that reasonable, but also in general non-shittiness. The housing here is shitty, is the bottom line. Crappy apartments, creepy houses, unmaintained yards, questionable plumbing. And yet, "no pets" is the common refrain. Sorry, but our cats are cleaner and better maintained than your precious pieces of shit. Our financial resources are dwindling, and I still have no job. I am kicking myself, sometimes literally (I keep hurting myself in inexplicable ways), for making such a mess of our housing situation. Not only did I leave my perfectly good job before I had another one, I also opted to move with G here before our lease was up on our California apartment. For a minute there, it looked like it was going to be okay, because there were people lining up to take over the apartment (after a while - it is, in fact, way overpriced for the market, but the market sucks and there's nowhere else to go). But then, the person who actually got the lease doesn't plan to move in until later this month, meaning that we're now paying for an empty fucking overpriced apartment in California that we're not even living in. To be fair, the landlords have been gracious with us, putting our security deposit toward the rent and allowing us to do a payment plan for the balance, which should be about $700 when all's said and done. But $700 when you have $2000 to last you through August is not good. And we really could have used that security deposit back. I can't believe I made such a stupid mistake, but it's too late to go back now so I just have to suck it up and deal with it. Meanwhile, there is this place. We are living about half an hour's drive from G's workplace, in a somehow-even-more-podunk town. I'm okay with podunk, but I'm not okay with trashy, and that's what we've got. Some of the little neighborhoods are nice, and most of the scenery is gorgeous, if you can get close enough to it. But then there are the swathes of trailer parks and rundown apartments and wandering meth-heads, with the occasional burned-down building to let you know who's been cooking what where. We are currently in the midst of one of the latter type of location (i.e. the trashy parts, not specifically the burned-down parts). I mean, it's fine. But it's weird. We're right off the 101, so it's loud; the host is not here but some other guest-dude is; it's supposed to be an airbnb but it's obvious no one was ready for all of us month-long guests (no soap, no paper towels, rotting fruit out, just weirdness). G and I are staying in the host's bedroom, where there are no hooks or shelves or any place to put your stuff, and her bed is a futon mattress on the floor. I mean, all right, live like a college student if you want to. But we're paying $35 a night for the privilege, or lack thereof. I realize I'm just being whiny now, and I should be grateful. At least we have a place to stay. We were turned down yet again for financing for an RV, and competition for decent housing is surprisingly steep. There's no way we'd buy a house here in this obviously-shattered local economy; we'd never be able to sell it again. We've learned our lesson from our Nebraska house, which remains unsold despite my most excellent staging. So we're basically a couple of hobos with two cats and two old empty residences we can't shake. Call the cats horses and the residences ghosts from our past, and you're halfway to an atmospheric western. I know we will be happy here, once we get settled in and get back on our feet financially. The beaches are amazing, there are hiking trails and campsites everywhere, and all the seafood I can get my grubby little mitts on - which is none right now, but when I can actually pay for it, boy howdy. I don't want to fall into the trap of "I'd be happy if only...", but seriously, I cannot be expected to be happy in this weird girl's bedroom. 2:36 p.m. - 2015-07-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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