Wanted: apartment of dreams, not picky, will sign 15-month lease

If you haven’t been keeping up with my apartment-hunting woes, it probably means you are not related to me or best friends with me or stalking me so…I feel sorry for you. But seriously.

Apartment-hunting. Why does it suck so. much. ??? Is there some book of governance kept somewhere that requires potential landlords to be annoyed when you call them about the ad they themselves posted or that states all apartments in one’s preferred price-range must have wall-to-wall maroon carpeting or exist solely on city blocks where assault and battery per capita somehow rises dramatically or why people think that cats are better tenants than dogs? Also, what genius signed a lease that expired in February of all months? Oh, yeah. Me.

And from much personal experience, I can say that renters can’t be choosers. You get what you get. We’ve lived in awesome places and not so awesome places and stuff in between. Every place has had its charms and every place has been part of the way that God has provided for us. Sometimes, though, I just long for a place that has some of the things I imagine when I close my eyes and think of the word ‘home.’ At this point, if we can find a place with four walls and a door and it doesn’t cost too much or look like a crack den, we’ll probably rent it.

But what is a blog if not a place I can say, at least to all of you, what I really, really want in an apartment? So here goes. In my dream world…

Wanted: Apartment of dreams. One or two bedrooms with hardwood floors, a decorative fireplace, and built-in shelving. A stained glass window. A kitchen island. A bathtub with claw feet (even if Kyle says bathtubs with claw feet seem like a great place to be haunted by ghost children). A washer and a dryer of my very own. A tree. A patio or tiny little patch of grass we might generously call a lawn. Heck, I’d settle for a porch stoop. Dog-friendly.* Less than 10 minute drive to Kyle’s job. A library I can walk to. Two whole parking spaces.

*I really don’t need it to be dog-friendly, exactly. I just need it to be Madigan-friendly. Seriously, how can you say ‘no’ to this face?

I guess my prayer right now is that we’ll find the place we’re supposed to live. And not necessarily that it will be the apartment I’ve been dreaming about. I think I’m praying that I’ll start dreaming about the apartment we’re actually meant to have. God, take my dreams and give me yours instead. I have a feeling they’d be much more satisfying.

love, elizabeth