So several months ago I received my super fabulous almost dream job! I resigned myself to the fact that until I got situated in this new groove I would sublease a suite from a lady in my barn. Life was great and my new digs weren’t bad.
Fast forward to 2 and a half months later, the newness has worn off and Raleigh is less than impressed about being ousted out of bed at 5:30 am for an hour plus commute. So I began looking for an apartment, I figured living in the tech mecca of the world and near one of the best universities in the nation, this would be a snap. Boy was I wrong. Two months later I have determined two things, I am willing to compromise a lot on where I live, and if you ask for an apartment under $1,000 in Palo Alto you will get laughed at.
So in my apartment search I told myself that I would stay in a specific budget and have a set deadline to move into a new place. I thought I had hit the real estate goldmine when I found a below market rate apartment that even allowed dogs! I put a deposit down and began subconsciously picking out drapes. The following day I was hit by a ton of bricks when I was told that I no longer qualified for the unit.
I have now called on at least 1 billion different units, and toured only 1 million. I am crossing my fingers for tour number 1 million and 1. I sure hope so, because mom said the only one who could move back home was the corgi.
