Tonight was supposed to be the end of the first week in my new apartment.
Then it was supposed to be my first night in my new apartment.
And -- although I had a lovely evening otherwise -- I've come back "home" to this basement sublet in Arlington and am in more than a bit of a funk about it.
I am not supposed to be here.
I know I'll get my apartment in the end (and the landlord has said he'll put me somewhere Monday night if this person isn't out of my apartment by then), but I don't want to spend another weekend in suburban Arlington, 1.5 miles from the metro, 2 miles from the grocery store, and hours away from anything but rows and rows of houses.
I want my apartment!