My days of late have been consumed with trying to find an apartment. The last month and a half, after my roommate told me she and her boyfriend were planning to find a place together, I have been a bundle of preoccupation and stress concerning this new apartment.

One would think after my initial rantings of learning to adjust to said roommate and her boyfriend, I would be happy to finally have the opportunity to have my own space. That much is true. But I would be even happier if I could a) afford it, and b) find it NOW!!

To date, I've looked at 8 apartments, and wasn't really sold on anything of them (obviously). I'm very very picky, as I think I should be. But at what point does being too picky cost too much? Sometimes (probably not often enough, or perhaps too much) I wonder if I will ever be truly happy about anything, and continually find fault with things, even things that I supposedly love? Maybe this is venturing down another line of questioning that I'd like to avoid for today. But it's been plaguing me for a while now, and it has already affected my life right now and my relationships and how I function.

Obviously I'm not just talking about finding an apartment. I've really been struggling with what it means for me to be happy, and wonder if it's a state I can sustain for any great period of time? Kind of scary that right now I want to be able to, but don't know how.