I've decided to stop looking for an apartment. It's just stressing me out and there's nothing we can do about it right now anyway. Until Carl finds a job, we can't put in an application anywhere, and there are just so many variables. This comes from looking at an apartment in Port Credit (yes Joanna, Port Credit!) that we thought was in our price range and then found out that their advertized price was lower than the particular apartment that is available. Not that we could even take it right now, we just wanted to see it. It was okay, but pretty small for the price. Yes, Port Credit is desirable (right on Lake Ontario, little shops and cafes, small townish in the city, and very me) but I don't want my kids to live in a tiny space just to be there. Carl and I did that in the Beach but it's different with kids. There's a much bigger and nicer apartment right near Square One (also desirable) for the same money. The kicker is, we have no idea how much money we can actually afford to pay for an apartment, and won't until Carl gets a job. We're just estimating right now, and it's frustrating and somewhat futile. So I'm going to stop obsessing about it. I'm putting away the Renter's News. Now I just have to find something else to occupy my time and slight OCD. Maybe finding a church.
I was reading Julie's blog and thinking about why I haven't gone to church here yet. I started doing research as soon as we knew we were coming back, and yet haven't gone. There are a few reasons - no car available on Sunday mornings, not knowing where we're going to live - but I think the biggest reason is that I'm kind of scared. Scared of comparisons to St. Tim's, scared of being the new person again, scared of getting attached. I mean, we're pretty sure we're going to be somewhere around here, so we could at least check a few out. There's got to be a way around the car situation. I don't know.
The idea of church shopping is very weird to me. Choices were non-existant where I grew up - one church per denomination per town, and some towns shared ministers. We lived in a three-point charge, where the minister preached in three different towns every Sunday. Then we weren't looking when we found St. Tim's, it kind of found us. So deciding on a church is strange. But I do believe that we have to find one that fits us, or that we fit into.
I don't think I mentioned that I went back on the anti-depressants, shortly after my last post about it. I was just all over the map, and frightened my family. I don't think any of them (except Carl) realized how much I really needed them before. I feel much better now. It's funny, though. I couldn't have my prescription from California tranferred here, so I got Carl to pick it up for me at a Walgreens when he returned the rental truck to Niagara Falls, NY. You don't see many Canadians crossing the border for prescriptions, it's usually the other way around.
Okay, enough purging for now. I bet none of you knew how neurotic I was, did you?