After a long search for a cheap apartment in a moderately un-appalling neighborhood in Seattle, I have found it. Yesterday after viewing it, then dragging the roomy back to re-view it, I decided to take it. A sweet little studio a block from Green Lake—only 600 dollars. I was completely ecstatic all yesterday evening. “Yes I have a plan, no more looking, no more thinking about it all the time!”
However, last night I started tossing and turning. Was moving out of the roommate life-style an awkward attempt at baby-stepping into responsible adulthood? Where the nut am I going to fit my comics? Why didn’t I take exact measurements of the apartment YESTERDAY so that I could obsessively make a scale diagram of the room and then cut out tiny scale paper furniture. I don’t own silverware! I will have to choose silverware! And I have to put together a new bed. And buy a new mattress set. THIS SUCKS!
I can’t believe that I’m having commitment issues with an apartment.