When I put out to the social media and to my friends that I need a place to rent, and perhaps a roommate, I received a note from a friend about someone who works for her in the small business administration.
So I called Chuck who has an apartment at the CSUMB faculty housing area and would like one roommate. It’s a three bedroom apartment, so I’m not sure of the cost, but I have an appointment with him next week. He sounds like a nice person and comes with a recommendation from someone I trust.
This may be the right place, but I’m still looking until the perfect place comes around.
I also had a call from a young college man who seems eager to find something and right away wanted to sign up with me. My hesitation with that offer, is why would a young college boy want to room with a senior citizen who would probably bore him to death? I think of my grandsons rooming with an older person and I just don’t think they would like it. I have a feeling because of my age, a younger person may be thinking of a grandma who makes cookies and cleans up after them.
I hardly ever make cookies, and it’s all I can do to straighten up after myself.
Speaking of straightening up after ones self. When I read Madeline Albright’s book about WWII and the families who were put into camps, it made me want to stop complaining about the routine of taking care of my personal environment. Everyday, even though the families slept in tiny quarters surrounded by other families, one mother insisted each family member ‘tidy up their beds’ when they wake up. That is what reminds me, that if it were important to keep a some-what normal life in dire circumstances, I could at least do that, and much more.