I couldn't believe what I had gotten myself into. I had only known him for a couple of days, I just got out of a relationship, yet I felt like we were meant to be. I know it sounds cheesy but that feeling wasn't faltering instead it was swelling up.
So the next day I got up and took a shower. I was feeling gross with a capital 'g'. It wasn't my physical appearance or hygiene, it was my insides.
Ansel called almost five times before I answered him. His voice was soft and sounded hurt but I tried to assure him that everything was fine. To be honest I wasn't very convincing but it did the trick.
I grabbed a bagel and ran out of the house. I was late for an open house. I was searching for an apartment. I ran into my car with my sloppy bun bouncing on the back of my head. As soon as I reached the apartment I saw my realtor waiting for me.
She looked like a pretty fun person. Her appearance wasn't even professional. She wore bright pink lipstick, a blue top, and beige flats. I'm glad I didn't pick some uptight lady that was very stern.
We walked into the apartment. White walls and dark chocolate colored wood floors. It had two bathrooms, two bedrooms, and a very open kitchen. After a month of looking, this was the only one I liked. And at that very moment I was very impatient and to make an offer. She laughed out a,"Coming right up!".
When I got to my parents' house I checked the mail. I got my Yale magazine subscription from when I went to Yale. I walked up to the trash bin and tossed it. After an hour of reading I got a phone call from my realtor saying that I got the house. I screamed a bit to loudly. My life was coming together.
