The Great Roommate Search 2009

I should have mentioned that it's just me and the kids (pets), again. Another relationship over. Starting from scratch again. It's ok - it's probably good, even. And I have learned a lot about what I will not be okay with next time, so that's something. But I'm overwhelmed. Broke, in the middle of a very demanding semester in a very demanding program, and with a couple of furry dependents no less. So, because moving just seemed too daunting, I'm going to ride out the semester here and I'm trying to find me a roommate. If they're awesome, maybe I'll stay longer. If not, I'll move us all to somewhere new in May, when school's out and I actually have a job.

So - Operation Roommate. I first used Facebook. Friends of friends, right? Six degrees of separation and all that. Which yielded a few international inquiries, but I'm not renting out my place over email to anyone. Too dicey. Next stop, Craigslist. Eeeek. Really opening 'er up to the crazies. Yesterday, a woman in her late forties came over to see the place. She is a medical student, and an ordained minister. She's taken vows that mean she won't drink, use any intoxicants and.. well, she trailed off after that, so I'm not even sure what else. She wanted to do "treatments" in her room for her clients. She wanted to share kooky hippie food. And of course, she loved me, she loved the place, she even loved Siris giving her a tongue bath. She was pretty much begging me to let her move in. I need the money, but am I that desparate? No, not quite yet, I don't think.

Also from Craigslist, I've talked to some promising people over the phone. They're going to come and see the apartment and meet the kids and I tomorrow, so here's hoping one of them is more my speed. With each person that is interested, I feel as if I'm on some bizarre roommate game show - do I keep who I have... OR DO I RISK IT ALL AND HOPE THERE'S SOMEONE BETTER WHO SURFACES? After all, it will only be the next three months of my life right? Here's hoping fate is on my side.

I need to buy some firelogs to make the place look all cozy-like, and exercise the crap out of the mutters so she's on her best behaviour for our potential new roomie at our next unveiling.

Vroom Vroom

Every three weeks or so, I'm expected to be at school at seven am for what's called "Kennel Duty". This is part of our animal care duties, and absolutely required to graduate. No missing a shift, no being even a minute late, or you'll be shot. Well, no, but your grade drops to a C the first time and you're booted out of the program the second time. Yep, for real. So no pressure.

If I'm on Small Animal Kennel Duty this means feeding dogs and cats, scooping out litter boxes, walking the dogs, collecting samples, filling out everyone's chart, and mopping, cleaning, disinfecting, etc. If I'm on Large Animal Kennel duty this means feeding calves, sheep and horses, letting them out in the pasture in the morning, bringing them in at night, mucking stalls and wheelbarrowing large amounts of crap over to the manure bin, sweeping and other fun tasks.

There's no bus that will get me to school for seven, so I've been borrowing my mom's car and driving there on the days I have kennel duty. Every time I get behind the wheel of the car I have a little meltdown: Will someone cut me off? Will I be rear ended? Will the car skid in a patch of black ice and spin out of control? Will there be construction on my regular route forcing me to take a new and scary route? Will I arrive alive? Heh, seriously.

And every time nothing happens, and I get there just fine and as I'm dropping off the car at my parents' house at the end of the week, I breathe a sigh of relief. My confidence goes up a little. I'm even proud of myself for gettin' er done. For navigating expressways, and dealing with winter driving conditions, and for stepping way out of my comfort zone. I even think that one day this will all be second nature. And then I dread the next time. Sigh.