House Hunting, Day 2

I woke this morning dreaming of donuts. Specifically: a half of a donut with red white and blue sprinkles that I scarfed surreptitiously in my boss’s apartment on her birthday while conspiring with a girl I haven’t seen since high school. Conspiring about what? I don’t know. Feminism, life, apologies. The donut was fat and delicious and I loved it. And then my alarm rang.

It’s a sad moment when you wake up exhausted and know you have to rev up because the ferry’s coming in an hour. By some miracle I found time to both make and drink coffee — so often I run out the door leaving a perfectly steaming cup too hot to touch. Despite my early morning sugar fix, my off-brand Cheerios still tasted divine. And then: ferry. Read The Feminist Porn Book for 35 minutes. Stumbled into the city. And unlocked my Zipcar (!) named Silly (!!) to drive in Seattle for the first time ever (!!!).

I am leaving Bainbridge Island and moving back into the city presently. Promptly. As soon as possible. My internship is ending and with that my housing, and besides that I’m eager to get back across the water. Not that I would have made moves if the rug had not been literally (figuratively) ripped out from under my cozy feet, but I have a bad habit of getting comfortable instead of seeking out situations that are in my best interest. See: the pizza restaurant where I used to work.

I scheduled six viewings, every hour on the hour, between 11 a.m. and 4 p.m. I made plans based on people’s availability, not my convenience, which of course led me to zip from Ballard to Ravenna to SoDo back up to Ballard again. Instead of spending an angry day chasing buses, I decided to splurge a little and try Zipcar. I had signed up for it and paid like 60 bucks when Ben and I were still together, dreaming of weekend hikes that never occurred. Today, single and practically homeless, a cute red Sentra named Silly was mine.

(And yes I chose the car completely based off that name.)

I was nervous about driving in the city because I had forgotten I’m a fucking awesome driver! I only shouted ‘motherfucker’ twice! (which is pretty standard even for just walking around.) I only forgot what ‘viaduct’ meant and was regurgitated into the wrong side of the city once! And I got to hear my tunes on an upgraded sound system. Not that Silly’s backseat was tricked out with a subwoofer — I do long for a time when I can rent a car with sick hydraulics and bounce around town like a champion — but these days I appreciate anything beyond Apple earbuds.

The first house forgot I was coming. I read and re-read their ‘no solicitors’ sign as I knocked on their front door, timidly (I am a timid knocker) and heard people talking and laughing inside. People with ‘no solicitors’ signs are insane, right? It’s not normal, is it? I mean, maybe I’m being unfair, maybe I’m blaming the victim, maybe that little woodsy suburb with gravel sidewalks north of everything is just teeming with aggressive Girl Scouts. I’m just saying, I’d much rather be solicited than be a creep with a ‘no solicitors’ sign.

Anyway, finally someone came out (not to the no-solicitation door but around the side) and asked me who I was. Hark! A solicitor! Recognition finally dawned on his hung-over face and he gave me a hung-over tour. I already knew I wasn’t interested. I love solicitors and I hate being forgotten.

Next up: winner winner chicken dinner. A girl house! It was clean, it was sunlit, and there were like four girls sprawled around the living room watching some crap tv and moaning for hash browns. True love.

The third place not only had the day’s second ‘no solicitors’ sign, but also a driveway so long the house was effectively rendered invisible. Ain’t nobody soliciting you! I was forced to remove my shoes and instead of flushing, the toilet just turned blue. No thanks!

The fourth is another possibility. Picture lush greenery curled around a front porch, art on the walls and stacked in piles on the floor, a fucking grand piano, a food dehydrator, “every type of tea.” My life has possibilities again!

I was late to number five because I spent too much time chatting with four, but that’s okay because they seemed cranky and unfriendly. Maybe because I was late! Six was friendly but I just didn’t vibe. I was exhausted from selling myself and inquiring after strangers’ social lives all day. And driving up and down the city and eating trail mix because I’m too cheap/poor/about drop first+last month’s rent to buy myself lunch. (I did enjoy a lovely local appleberry juice from Sunlight Cafe between viewings. I am but human.)

And now I’m finally home (though not home for much longer! #nostalgia) begging the sun to set so I can go to bed without shame. Just trying to make it till 9. A new week is about to begin.

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About Emily Suggests

Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother.

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