In my 25 year old/young (depending on who you're talking to) life I have for some reason made this disappointing discovery multiple times..I am once again fooled by my own excitement of living somewhere new.
Being somewhere new = fun
Exploring the area = fun..more fun if you have a bicycle..I don't = sore feet.
Going to house inspections = fun if it turns out it looks how you pictured it would (judging by realestate.com.au). If it's nothing like it = heart dropping to your knees disappointment
Going to multiple inspections over a period of 6 days = exhausting
Filling out application forms and realising you still don't look good on paper = provokes "what's-the-point-we're-never-going-to-get-this-one"-attitude
If only I could magically turn 35 with a good job and well presented rental history every time I go house hunting...(Obviously I would go straight back to 25, or maybe even 22 if possible, as soon as the papers are signed..I mean, if you're 35 with a good job, what are you doing still renting...duh..)
