So I’ve been living in DC for just over seven months now. Hard to believe it’s actually been that long. Since I’ve been here, I’ve lived in two places… well, not sure if you could consider one of them a “living” situation. For the first six weeks I was here, I slept on a couch. I took a job and had about four weeks to find a place before I moved, but my ever cautious and practical parents suggested I try to find a place to crash so I could scope out the area first. A friend of my brother’s was living here on a special work assignment and offered her couch to me. So one Thursday afternoon, I packed two suitcases (one just of shoes), carried my work clothes still on their hangers and a J.Crew shopping bag with toiletries and departed for my new home town.
Arriving at her corporate housing in Woodley Park, some might say I was spoiled… as spoiled as I could get sharing my“bed” (aka couch) with an 80-pound dog, sharing my closet with Baxter’s dog food, and returning my toothbrush to my J.Crew bag on a nightly basis. But the area is gorgeous, safe, and where I would choose to live if I made three times as much as I’m making now. Sigh….
In all honestly, it wasn’t the worst situation I could have been in. Since I didn’t really know anyone in the area, I instantly had at least one person to talk to and a pet. I was also living rent-free for those weeks, so my expenses were kept at a minimum. But more importantly, I was submerged in my city, so I was able to experience firsthand where the better (in my opinion) areas to live are.
As I walked Baxter for those first few weeks, I scoped out “For Rent”signs hoping that the perfect English basement would be available just for me. Never happened. I also, just like everyone else I know who’s searching a place to live, searched endlessly on craigslist, rent.com, apartments.com, and other posting boards to try to find a place. I consider myself somewhat picky with what I’m looking for in a place since I’m semi-spoiled.
After six weeks, I think I finally hit my limit of sleeping on the couch and not having a door, and I settled on a place in Virginia. A woman was renting out a room in her 2 bedroom, 1.5 bathroom with no lease attached. Not signing onto a lease was what really sold me since I figured I’d only be there a few weeks before I moved again. But I found that once I actually “owned” four walls, a door, a bed, and a huge closet, I wasn’t so eager to move again. That was six months ago and now I’m getting antsy for something of my own since I don’t really fit in with my roommates Holly Hobble décor.