Monday, December 13, 2010

They call me Hausfrau

So, housing is fun. NOT. NOTNOTNOTNOT. It is NOT fun. Rainman couldn't even say it enough.

After three long days of a harrowing battle between I, the beautiful and courageous damsel quite distressed, and mine very own enemy, the monstrous entity best known as the Housing Office (::shudder::), I have come out mostly victorious! Tragically, a call to my sister was fatally lost in the fray, but I knew there would be causalities going in to this battle. The call, RIP, was just an innocent bystander, bless it's little dial toned soul.  May the memory of the call-that-was-not forever linger in our hearts and minds. Amen.

I'm not even was that bad.

Since Husband is off being the sole breadwinner these days, which is the whole reason we came to Germany, I'm taking on the temporary title of both Hausfrau and Personal Assistant/Secretary/Life Coach. Basically, while Husband is spending his long German days laboring for the establishment, I am taking care of pretty much everything else, sans finding the new parts we will need to make our very American car speak German. I'm all like, "So, what's the difference between a hubcap and a rim?", and at that point Husband found it prudent to stage an elaborate coup on our daytime-responsibility hierarchy and immediately usurped my car-part-purchasing power. Little did he know, the whole thing was a ruse to skirt responsibility on the issue anyway- I definitely know the difference between a hubcap and a rim. Hubcap is two syllables and rim is one. So HA. 

The most pressing "quality of life" issue I'm working on now is find a permanent place to live. We are currently staying in a delightful all-suite hotel, but the constant immediate proximity of Husband and I in the room, coupled with lack of American stimulation- like TV- and compounded by sharing one overworked laptop, has brought us to a point of nervous exhaustion. Luckily, we are still extremely in loooooooooove, a mere 4 weeks past our wedding, so we haven't yet succumbed to the bitter crankiness and personal sabotage that may test more established couples. Good thing we are doing this now while on our best one-month-anniversary behavior than years from now when we might be more wont to lash out in ugly and vengeful ways.

I have 2 appointments set up to see apartments and one more in the works, so hopefully there is an end in sight to the madness. And hopefully that end involves heated floors and a vista.


Sara said...

Hurray! A shiny new blog!

I hope you were referencing ol' What's Her Face from Taylor who taught Art as an Experience when you said you wanted a vista. As in "Self, I have no vista." If you don't know what I'm talking about, there's going to be a pretty big let-down when I tell you the story and you already know the punchline. Whatever.

All that to say: I am, regardless of your thought process behind using said word, very happy to have new Allison-writings to read. :)

Allie said...

Yes! Old Whats-Her-Face! I am, in fact, referencing her. I will never in a million years remember her name, but will never forget just how much she looked like a bird. I imagine her vista is best suited from a treetop.