Amendment to Plan D.

I really love it when you ask for a miracle and you get one.

I don't have to worry about couch-surfing at Mom's after this week. Don't get me wrong, Mom and I get along quite well. But she lives in a one-bedroom apartment. There would be an inflatable mattress in the future, which is OK for a night or two, but not for three weeks (worst-case scenario). Growling and hurt feelings would be inevitable.

My hairdresser, who is also a good friend, called yesterday to alert me to a different situation, and after that was resolved, we got to talking about my housing woes. She lives in the downstairs of her house, and has her shop there as well. The three upstairs bedrooms are rented out on a short-term basis, often to glass artists who are in town to study at CMoG. I was positive that she had rented them out for the LPGA tournament coming to town this coming weekend (and the catalyst for this crisis), but I planned to ask when I get my haircut on Monday if she had any other good ideas. (She's a town native and knows pretty much everyone.) Turns out she doesn't often rent them for this particular event. I have a place to stay until June 7. It is an almost indescribable relief.

So I will have a bedroom with a microwave, little fridge, cable/wireless, and hot water. The only thing I need to figure out is what to do with my cat Mitzie, but that's minor compared to being almost homeless.