Well, not really, but I thought maybe a 90′s dance song would get me in the mood to once again find a place to live, pack up all of my worldly possessions, unpack said treasures and once again settle in; but, not so much. I am somewhat embarrassed to report that my significant other had no more of an answer to the present living predicament than I did two weeks ago when finding out about the latest episode in the displacement sagas. He simply told me to focus on the work we are doing now so we can raise capital to move, and that the rest would fall into place. The ducks have yet to line up in a row, but I am not worried. I have already played out pretty much every possible scenario that could transpire over the next month, and with the exception of living in a trailer with rats and a meth-cooker with no teeth, all of them seem like pretty decent options.
I think in order to not waste a potential landlord’s time and my own I am going to craft a personal statement that describes our situation, the 200 pounds of dog that are a non-negotiable part of the transaction and the fact that while we may not look good on paper, we are good for the money (citing sources here of course). We will just have to wait and see, as long as I have internet, I should be good 