Patience is a virtue...

...that for me, will be thoroughly be tested over the next few days.

We saw the apartment today. THE apartment. The one we have dreamed about, the one we have called about for almost a year, the one that has everything on our list. A two bedroom townhouse, one and a half baths, huge closets (as in plural, more then one, ) a dishwasher, a washer and dryer, an enclosed back patio. One sad note. They raised the rent. Instead of fifty dollars a month more then we are paying now, it's two hundred dollars more a month. There's a price for perfection.

The hubby says we should still do it, if we get accepted, find a way to make it happen and just do it. This could be THE opportunity and we could only blame ourselves if we pass it up. There was no application fee.

We filled one out.

We should know by Thursday.

I don't want to jinx it, but we could be in before Thanksgiving.

My stomach hurts.

I don't want to get my hopes up, and even if we are accepted, there is still the struggle of affording it. I've already promised to apply for a job at the little market down the block from this new place if we get it. Our Bum plans on getting a new job. After we move, the hubby plans on getting a new job. It will work, right? Is this pit sitting in the base of my stomach nerves or dread?

Prissy is learning to read Tarot cards, I wonder if a reading would reveal the financial future that could possibly drive us into ruin. I'm being pessimistic, I know, this isn't a new trait.

I want to dream. I want to picture where to put the couch opposite the television so the hubby and I can reclaim the most comfortable seats in the house. I want to imagine the back patio with the barbeque and some chairs and a table and a bunch of friends on a Monday night. I want to believe in a future that doesn't involve defrosting the fridge once every week and a half, or where the toilet doesn't run at random times all day and night. I like the idea of actually being able to take a fucking bath because I haven't had a bathtub in over seven years.

But, I'm scared. Scared that we'll get rejected, and if not rejected that we won't be able to afford it at some point. Ugh. Mixed blessings. I can't wait to be excited. Maybe I can relax a little after Thursday.

Cross your fingers, say your prayers, send check or money order to... yeah, whatever, just wish us luck.

Ooooo, juicy P.S.: You know how Li'l Mama keeps complaining about the smell of smoke in her apartment? Ha! Maybe she should quit smoking then. Looks like my suspicions were true and she's trying to hide that dirty little secret from her baby-daddy. Hehe. It made my day to find that one out.