round one
I somewhat reluctantly trekked to Hamilton today, plagued with monotonous highway vision and pangs of weariness driving there (odd, because it's never happened before. I'm usually excited about driving to Hamilton). I wish I could say it was a trip of leisure but it wasn't.
Dropping off a cover letter and resume that I've spent four days crafting does not constitute leisure. Finding out that you're applying for an amazing job in a lab run by a professor whom you think might secretly (or not-so-secretly) hate you or have a less-than-desirable impression of you based on foolish things you wrote more than two years ago, is not leisure. Apartment hunting in humid weather is so far from leisure. Unproductive apartment hunting, because it's not quite a ripe time (that is, April, August or even December), is definitely not leisure. Forgetting to absorb the atmosphere is, without doubt, leisureless.
There was so much I wanted to see again while on-campus but in my single-mindedness in looking for bulletin boards with "for rent" listings, I totally forgot that I actually love being on-campus, and I forgot to check out the new hospital extension or new West Quad caf. Perhaps you can also blame the noxious construction going on everywhere, for detracting me from my enjoyment.
I'm painfully idealistic that we can find a resonably cheap place in Westdale. This springs from the fact that when we were living there two years ago, rent was just under $400. But throw in that hideous double-cohort from two years ago, and you have yourself some inflation. I just don't think the inflation is all that bad, but of course, I'm ignorant and probably wrong in this area. I just have my painful idealism blindly guiding me. However, (and this is where a dash of optimism comes in) because enrolment across the province has not been up to par, reverse inflation (deflation?) should be happening. Now if only the student rental market would hurry up and respond to this quickly.
I chanced upon a few probable listings and made a bunch of calls. But nothing has me tingling in my loins nor my face cracking with glee. It's surprising how finding a place to live can do that to a person, the comparative effect to sex and drugs. I'm just a little weary of having to go through all these ads online everyday, and I was hoping that being there in person would make it easier but it obviously didn't. That's right, I'm looking for things to be easy here. Sue me.
Oh, I fell asleep this afternoon with a magazine clinging to my disgustingly-sticky self. I woke up with unexplained marks on my leg, and later discovered ink marks on my face, which no one kindly told me about. Who knew the ink off magazine paper would come off when in contact with sweaty skin?