Today, the Roommate and I were both feeling a little under the weather.  The weather being a little Intent to Evict notice left on our door yesterday.  Apparently we now have five days to give up the apartment or pay our scummy landlords a bunch of money we don’t owe them.  Not after they trespassed into our apartment and destroyed some of our stuff, anyway.  So, rather than return any of our messages or emails, they have chosen this route.  (Again, the name is CROMAN REAL ESTATE in case you were wondering.) Last night was a frantic flurry of activity: the BF and I missing our Redeemer small group meeting to do real estate research online while the Roommate did the same thing at our place.  The end of our exploring was a little less than poetic; we didn’t arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.  We did, however, become a little more jaded (thought that was impossible for us New Yorkers at this point) as we learned about how abundant and cumbersome eviction laws are here. Since the BF is a typical guy in many ways (goal-oriented, task-managing, do-it-yourself) though not in others (having the patience to put up with me), I let him cruise the web and yell out important facts while I finished off the bottle of tempranillo we opened a couple of nights ago.  Major life crises always seem more hopeful when you’re looking at them over the rim of a red wine glass.  Having found enough information to feel confident that we are handling this appropriately and that we have a solid case, I was able to sleep.

Which led to today and matching call-in-sicks for me and the Roommate.  We figured we would be cruising cheap law offices in the city, getting help with our situation.  Turns out that we are not in as much of a time crunch as we thought.  We scheduled a couple of consultations for next week and were left with a blank day staring us in the face.  So we decided to fill it with a crappy half-price movie (do NOT see Leap Year), the gym, and DVRed Thursday night TV (do NOT watch Grey’s Anatomy).  What a difference a day makes: last night we planned on talking rent law and possibly confronting Evil Itself at our landlord’s office for our Friday; this morning we picked out who we wanted to play each of us in the Erin Brockovich-esque movie about our travails.  (The Croman family ruled real estate in New York, terrorizing innocent tenants, until these two fearless women took a stand..)

But feeling better about a crappy situation isn’t the same as not having to deal with it in the first place.  And knowing you’re right isn’t as comforting when you are dealing with someone who doesn’t spend time regarding the difference between right and wrong.  Which is what makes this whole thing scary, and kept me tossing and turning at night all week.  The thought that keeps coming to mind and out of my mouth is, “I just want this whole thing to be over.”  This, after the theme of my prayers all week has been to not look at the things I didn’t plan for as interruptions to life; to see them as part of life.  And to trust, all the way through them.

Last Christmas I immersed myself in the Twilight series.  (What?  It’s less embarrassing than admitting I paid to see Leap Year.)  I went online and found a draft by the author, Stephenie Meyer, of a possible follow-up book: Midnight Sun, which is Twilight told from Edward’s perspective.  I spent valuable work hours devouring the pages on my screen.  One thing that stuck with me was a character’s evaluation of Alice, the future-telling vampire.  About how she reacted to life not just based on the present, but on the future that she could see.  Which led me to think about how theoretical my trust is when I’m confronted by rough waters.  How “just let this be over” is a cry for rescue over insight.  Intervention over companionship. Ending over story.  Leap Year over Life.

This all seems unnecessary, considering I know someone who, miles beyond Alice, can see the future.  And has let me in on it.  Maybe I should start living like I can see what he’s shown me.