Damn you, Immo Vichy (25.9.02)

I finally got to visit an apartment today. This one was through an agency, Immo Vichy. The Immo Vichy woman showed me the apartment, which was a delightful studio (read: kitchen in the bedroom) with construction work going on outside, no closet space, no linens, and no oven, all for the delightful price of 250€, which of course does not include tax or utilities. I told her I'd call her.

I got an email from one of the other American assistants in the Vichy agglomeration, telling me her phone number and address and saying she was lonely and had an apartment. Unfortunately, it's too good to be true, as the number she gave me doesn't work and the buzzer outside the place she gave me the address of doesn't have her name on it yet, so I don't know which buzzer is hers.

I'll try again tomorrow, but it's very frustrating. I'm cold and tired and very very lonely (despite Agnès, one of the English profs, who makes an effort to take me out and invite me over). I want my own place and an oven and a real telephone line I can call to the US on. I want to know if I'm going to be living on my own and need to be frugal or if I can share with Jennifer and not worry about it so much. I want an address so I can get a bank account so I can get a carte de séjour so I can get paid. I want to pass one day where I don't burst out sobbing at some point from the stress and frustration and loneliness. HELP ME.

srah - Thursday, 26 September 2002 - 4:57 PM
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