Since I moved out of the flat in Artarmon a month ago to move in with Chez and Johnny, we haven't been able to find anywhere to live. We've applied for plenty and keep getting rejected.
I've been reading Numbers (the book of the Bible, I'm not much into maths) this month, all about the Israelites wandering around the desert, complaining, and slowing dying off. It's been feeling relevant. I feel like I'm living what I'm reading. While I'm not wandering anywhere and I haven't been dramatically rescued from slavery (my old housemates were quite nice really), I am hanging out for the promised land (house). I'm trying not to complain about my circumstances in case God says that I have to live with my parents till I die, and only my grown up kids will be allowed to move out. I have complained a little, mainly just about the stupid real estate agent's forms you have to fill out for every house. It's probably ok to complain about them though, because the Israelites didn't have to apply to move into the promised land. They just had to kill it's current inhabitants which, sometimes, seems like it could be a simpiler solution.
We do have a hopeful viewing on Thursday. So we could have somewhere to live after Thursday. Or it could just be one more bit of wandering.
I'm looking forward to food falling from the sky.
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