This post isn't about cupcakes. Promise (Mostly).

If I sadly didn't quite make it, I think that my personal version of hell would be looking for a New York City apartment day in & day out. It was hot enough today (90?!) & I looked at enough apartments that this didn't feel like such a far-fetched reality. 

I don't even know if I can really effectively articulate just how much of a pain it is to find a new apartment in Manhattan. I'll just say that IT IS A PAIN. Half the brokers barely speak English. Their favorite tactic is the bait-&-switch (i.e. dishonesty). 500 square feet is often considered "spacious" & they think it's perfectly acceptable to hang your clothes up in the living room. It's hard to find exactly what you want when things like space, price, location & ammenities all really matter. It's hard to prioritize. So - our lease is up at the end of May & we don't want to renew (price: too expensive, location: too far away from the subway), so I've been on the search the past few days while Mike is away bringing home the bacon & what not. Thus far: I've looked at a few dozen apartments, walking at least a dozen miles, climbed up & down dozens of stairs & gotten in & out of numerous elevators, & even had a broker smell his hand after shaking mine. In a really creepy, serial killer kind of way. I was disgusted &/or terrified. 

Anyway. 

I looked at what felt like a million different apartments yesterday & was just exhausted. I was on 2nd Avenue in the mid 80's. I walked north. I stopped at Two Little Red Hens. I bought myself a (miniature) cupcake. I ate it. Shamefully, alone. 

I felt much better. Let's call it an after school snack, or a form of retail therapy. Either way, it was much deserved. 

I found the perfect apartment today. I made Mike hop in a cab & come see it right that very second. It's beautiful. The building/location/amenities/floor plan & even doorknobs (yes, doorknobs) are perfect. I won't say any more for fear of absolute disappointment if we don't get it. I'll be busy creating an ulcer for the next few hours (days?) until we find out if it's ours or not. 

Keep a little prayer in your heart - for both my sanity & our ultimate success in capturing this gem. 

Today's Mileage: 3.1 miles. Treadmill. It was 90 degrees outside. No thank you. 

Television Watched (via closed-captioning - I was listening to my iPod, too): Oprah. She did a show on this woman who lost her arm + half of her chest from flesh-eating bacteria, which she contracted through a very small papercut-like cut on her finger. It was terrifying. Flesh eating bacteria actually exists? 

Thoughts: Can I really run a marathon? I mean, REALLY? 26.2 miles? I think running long distances has a lot to do with confidence, & today, I just didn't have any.