It is 6:30 a.m. on a Monday – and I think I’m screwed.
I’m on the bus to work when I check my Gmail. I see a message from the apartment building in Dallas. It says that my application has been approved, and that I have 3 days to sign my lease.
- The message is from Friday evening.
- The online lease papers expired on Sunday.
- I think I’m going to be homeless.
After almost spilling my coffee on the bus, I frantically navigate the decisively non-mobile-friendly leasing website on my phone. I e-sign the documents, and then email the leasing agent.
I spend the morning in a crappy mood because I’m convinced that I botched my rental application. I surely lost my deposit and have to start my apartment search all over again.
It turns out that the leasing people had to reissue my lease papers anyway because they misspelled my super-ethnic last name on the leasing documents. By the end of the day I signed my 26 page lease and officially had an apartment in Dallas!
I also gave notice at my Lowertown apartment building, and they’ve already done five showings… so this is really official.
My clients in Dallas know that I’m moving to town. They think it’s absurd that I’m moving in July, but I think it’ll be fun to pop into the office occasionally. I am also considering taking the Texas bar exam, which I would have never predicted when I started law school.
My coworkers are prepping for my absence as well
Someone at work let it slip that they are planning a going away party. I’m flattered, embarrassed, and I can’t believe this is happening.
I had a somewhat depressing moment about a year ago where a friend drunkenly said, “Dennis, you’re a Minnesota lifer. You’ve been talking about moving for a long time, but if you were going to do it, you would have done it already. You’re stuck here.”
Also! Since a few of you randomly asked, here is my breakup soundtrack, by stage: