I get knocked down

My friend Courtney sent me this lovely song today. She described it as: “It’s no promise for anything, but songs like this are little gems to me, and remind me that despite it all … I have hope. For love. For myself.”

I love that. Today was a day of falling down and getting back up again. I got word this morning that the apartment I fell in love with the other day was a no-go. The landlord jacked up the rent after my application was filed. I had to walk away. It was hard to do. I wanted to be sad. I also had a killer headache, so I left work an hour early, stopped at Sprinkles for a cupcake and went home for a nap. I spent two hours feeling sorry for myself, then I got up. No one’s going to do this for me, so I got back at it. I found a cute apartment on StreetEasy and called the agent. She said I could see it in an hour. I was already in my comfy clothes, but I put on proper attire and caught a train to the West Siiiiiide (throw up your Ws).

The apartment was amazing! A little smaller than the one I loved, but bigger than the teeny one I posted about last week. Plus, it’s in a well-maintained building in a better location with laundry in the building! I haven’t put in an application yet, but I will.

This journey is a roller coaster. Not just finding a place to live or living in New York, but living life. As someone told me once, “It’s not about how many times you fall down, it’s about how many times you pick yourself back up.”

And it’s about keeping the hope.

Published by Candace

I’m a journalist, nutritionist, doting auntie, one-time bobsledder, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.

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