
We’re not homeless… and I suppose that’s something to be grateful for.
Last week, we were 4 days away from literally having no where to stay, when I got home late from work and decided to take, yet another, look at the renting websites. A double room really close to my work popped up and without even reading the description I applied. Within 2 minutes we got a phone call, “Hi, you’re interested in the room?”
Now it must be mentioned that while I worked my first 3 days of 8 hour shifts on my feet (at varying times of day but always ending late at night), Kendal spent many hours applying to well over a hundred houses — literally everything in and around Dublin that we could afford. During which we received a mere 4 responses: one was a scam, one was very expensive and the other 2 were 2 hours away from work and church. And yet! During my impulsive application to a room late one night, we were booked to go and see the house the next morning.
I woke up feeling really sick — the head-cold that I had felt coming on was in full swing and I really could’ve done with some more sleep and not gone out in the cold. But, alas, we had a house to view.
As we got off the bus and began our journey (google maps in hand) we were stopped by an old man in a white combi. He was our landlord and offered to give us a lift to the house. He was sweet enough but judging by the literal spiderwebs on the inside of his car door, and the amount of junk paper all over the seats — he wasn’t going to care about the state of the room he was renting out.
You see the thing about a housing crisis is that even if you won’t take the overpriced, under-maintained bog of a house; some desperate sod will. It’s us. We’re the desperate sods.
So… we took the house. The house with awful smells coming from the disgustingly dirty kitchen with cobwebs in every possible corner, and things that really should be cleaned more often — not cleaned more often.
As we were leaving, another couple went to view the room. So we stood by the wall outside and sent a message to the landlord that we would be happy to take it. He caught us and asked for a deposit to know that we would actually take it and not screw him over. We figured that if he was going to screw us over, then at least we only lost €100.
And then it was set. We had a place to stay. A messy, health-hazardy place to stay. But as Kendal reminded me, “it’s all part of the adventure” and even my grumpy, ungrateful self had to admit that it really is.
We got the keys 2 days before move in day so that we would have some time to deep clean. We then over-spent some money on cleaning products and basic rental necessities like towels and stuff and spent a good few hours before my shift, rubbing carpet cleaner on the floors and scrubbing mold off the bathroom taps and disinfecting literally anything in our room that could have ever been touched by anyone.
Our room is cozy now. A couple at The Church bought us some housey things and really tried to help us feel comfortable here. Bless them because after 8 hours on my feet, a painful limp home a walk through the weird smell, that is still there, up past the blue light in the passage (why is it blue?!), I feel okay when I open the door to our room and see the little bedside light lit, next to my orchard, with a cozy bed made and am grateful to have somewhere to stay.
We’ve been here for just over a week and have yet to venture into the nightmare kitchen to cook an actual meal (it’s been sandwiches and cereal in our room), but we’re getting there. And God-willing it will only be a month of “adventure”.
With love, from Dublin
Cheylin
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