Transplanted Life
Monday, June 28, 2004
 
Yeah, yeah, gift horses
So, there may be a solution to the housing problem if I swallow just a bit more of what little pride I've got left. I don't want to do it, but I'm rapidly running out of time to find other options.

Maybe if I'd been home to answer the phone, we'd have lost out. But I had an afternoon shift, so it was Carter who fielded the call. As he tells it, it was Maureen, sounding even more desperate than us, asking if we'd found a new place yet. Carter said no, but some friends of mine would let us use their couches for a couple of weeks. Maureen said that was good, well not really, but her roommate had just bailed on her this weekend.

Well, by the time I got home, Carter had been out to see the place and pronounced it nice. We'd still be sharing a bedroom, but there was already one twin bed in there. It would be a tight fit with that, the futon, and the dresser, but we could do it, since we don't have much other stuff. And it's on the other side of the river in Cambridge, so we'd be closer to our jobs. Not that proximity to these particular jobs is any great selling point, but we'd also be closer to my favorite movie theaters, comic shops, book stores, and Maggie.

I grumbled that it means living with Maureen, and just working with her was bad enough. Okay, maybe Carter had a point that she'd been a lot friendlier since his escape from Dmitri (though I remnided him to be suspicious of sudden large-scale changes of attitude/personality). But don't forget, I said, she's all girl. Get ready for wading through ridiculous amounts of personal care products, pink and cutesy decoration (we both know she loves the pink), her taking an eternity in the bathroom every morning. And, oh yeah, she doesn't know just what Dmitri and company did to us. She'll have nothing good to say about "Carter" because she doesn't know any better.

That dampened his enthusiasm. Still, he shrugged, said we needed a place to stay, and she's not asking us to sign a lease, so we can keep looking. I should at least go and give the place a once-over after she got back from work tomorrow.

And I'll do it, damn it. Because he's right; it's not as though we are exactly swimming in options right now.

-Marti
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net