Life's little lessons

I think life knows my silly little traits, and decides to challenge them every once in a while, just to remind me how ridiculous they are.

For instance- I'm not so good with ambiguity. I want to know what the next year in my life has to bring. This is not to say that I'm not a fan of spontenaity... but I can't stand, for instance, not knowing where I may be living, or whether I've gotten a job, etc. Not too good with the whole notion of que sera, sera, so to speak. So, every once in a while, my life makes me wallow in a pond of swirling ambiguity and uncertainty just to make me realize that I can indeed tolerate it, before things slow down and become clear again.

Another Princess-y tendency, as seems to show itself time and time again, is my catastrophizing.

Today I went to see a suite. It ended up being lovely-- smack dab in the area I wanted, hardwood floors, claw foot bathtub, and actually at the low end of my price range. I also seemed to get along well with the landlady, who made commented towards the end that I seemed like a great fit (even though there had been several other interested potential tenants) and that she would check out my references and get back to me by the next day at the latest. I left feeling excited and cautiously optimistic-- I know my references are good, but I also have this weird superstition that tells me that overconfidence dooms me to failure.

I give my month's notice to my landlady, not solely because of this place, but because I am determined to finally escape the suburbs this summer. She responds by slipping a notice that proclaims that they were giving me 24-hours notice to have access to my apartment from 8am to 8pm to show prospective tenants until it is rented. Ummmm.... I don't think you can give 24 hours notice to have a month's access....

I get a call this evening from the prospective landlady. She says that although all my references checked out , so did those of another woman who looked equally good on paper and came to see the apartment the day earlier, so she was going to have to give her the suite based on first-come, first-serve.

Despite the fact that I still have a month to find an apartment, and this was only the second one I'd looked at, I start to worry. I go back to an ad on craigslist I'd considered replying to, only to see that they had over 50 people show up at their open house. I begin to think that I will have to resort to someone's woodshed to get something I can afford in a decent area of town, and even then I would have to be first in line. I worry that I shouldn't have given my notice.

Just as I start to calm down, and remind myself that I have another appointment the very next day, as well as the fact that 30 days remain until I'm out on the street... the landlady calls me to inform me that the other lady decided not to take the suite, so it is officially mine.

Strike one against over-catastrophizing.

Still, my little foot-in-the-mouth moment, even if only witnessed by me (okay, and my guy who happened to get one or two pessimistic text messages about my soon-to-be homelessness), should serve as a nice little lesson for next time.