Panic Attack in the Middle of Kensington? Doesn't Sound Like Me at All... - Day 6

Part I:

Desperation makes people illogical. There's no other way to reason it.
       Ok, let me back up. One of my ALL TIME BIGGEST pet peeves is when someone takes advantage of someone who is in need. And that's intentionally ambiguous because it is applicable to many situations. For instance, my mom always gets upset at retail vendors who take advantage of teenagers. Or car dealers/mechanics who up-charge women because they think we don't know any better. That sort of thing. It sucks and it makes me angry.
       And as you can imagine, I hate even more being on the losing end of that situation - as I was (or was made to feel like I was) today. Worst of all in these situation is admitting that you just got taken advantage of because well, quite frankly, it makes you look like an idiot. And in true "new girl" fashion, I feel like I was duped into a stupid agency contract. It's hard to explain but pretty much I put out money on the front end in order for the agency (we'll call them Agency X) to find me flats. Apparently, that's not how things are done here. I mean, it didn't really make much sense to me but how the hell was I supposed to know? So I spoke to another agent (from a different agency) who then BERATED me for having handed over a lump of money and having gotten nothing in return. (I mean I did get something, kinda. Agency X set me up a flat viewing for this evening.) But what if nothing comes of it? What if I hate it? Agency X argues that they will continue to look until they find me something. So I should just have faith, but in the moment, I felt like a complete moron. I mean who just hands over 100 pounds? DUM-DUMS! That's who. So then after the phone call with the other agent who was pretty much yelling (not at me, but about Agency X because that's not how things are supposed to be done!) I had a legit panic attack. Like tears-in-the-street-panic-attack. Like the kind where a police officer came up to me to see if I was ok. Not because I was a sobbing fool, but just because I was having trouble breathing and he was afraid I was gonna pass out.
       But in the midst of this shitty and slightly embarrassing situation, THIS, my friend, WAS THE SILVER LINING I NEEDED! This policeman and his kindness was my beacon of light. It showed me that it's just money. And though it sucks that I might have been screwed out of some dough, that nice police officer helped to calm me down and showed me that even though there are dishonest people, there are good ones too. (As I said, I'm not even certain that I have been screwed just yet. If this apartment turns out to be a crack house, there's gonna be HELL TO PAY!)
       This, clearly, was not one of my finest moments. But the stress of a ticking clock, the financial burden of city living, me being here by myself with no one to give me a second opinion on things, AND THE 45 ounces of espresso that I consume daily in lieu of food probably caused my temporary lapse in sanity.
      It'll be ok. I mean, it can't all be rainbows and sunshine, right? I just need to breathe and have a little faith.

Part II:

      I went to see the apartment and thankfully, it wasn't totally crazy, which made me feel a little better. But it was the size of a postage stamp. No joke. Like half the size of the room I'm in now, which is really sayin' something. I was getting claustrophobic just being in there five minutes. There was no way I could live there. Annnd the area walking from the Central Line (tube) was a little sketchy, but the house's neighborhood and actual street, it was quite pleasant. I told him I needed to think about it to look around the neighborhood and such, even though I knew I didn't want it. But he did point me in the direction of a shopping complex not far from his residence called Westfield and it is the CRAZIEST MALL I'VE EVER SEEN! It's like King of Prussia on CRACK. There are so many restaurants and like 500 shops or something crazy like that. It was seriously a sight to behold!

       I ended up eating at Jamie Oliver's restaurant and it was seriously one of the most delicious meals I've eaten in a VERY long time. I had the wild rabbit tagliolini and it was RI-FREAKIN-DICULOUS! The only weird thing is that I asked for a box to take half of it home and the waitress informed me that they don't have takeaway boxes. Not that they ran out, they just don't have them. So she wrapped my pasta (which was kinda like linguini) up in a ball of foil. So strange and a little hilarious when I went to eat it later.
     

    The trip to Westfield really did make me feel a bit better, but the reality has set in that I really am running out of time on this flat hunting business. Yup, by this time tomorrow, I'm gonna be a little homeless. (Well, not really, I could always go to a hotel or hostel or whatever.) But I wanted this all taken care of. I have been running around this city like a chicken without a head for like five straight days looking for apartments and scoping out neighborhoods, I'm freakin' exhausted. I just want to get settled in somewhere so I can start enjoying LIVING in the city. Anyway, to say it was a trying day is putting it mildly. And tomorrow the fun continues because I am going to yet ANOTHER agent to see if they have anything else to show me. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, shit will be sorted out! I'll keep you posted. For now, I have laundry to attend to. I mean, if I'm gonna be homeless, I better at least have clean clothes!