When someone mentions trust I rarely think of it in terms of trusting myself. And that's what came in to play today as we waited to receive the lease on our new place. 

We're moving back out of the city. 

(A friend commented upon hearing this: "I can't keep up with you guys!")

We have been casually looking for a rental house upstate over the last few months. Maybe a little too casually. 

Suddenly April was upon us and our lease is set to expire on the 30th.

"It always works out," was my mantra. But the more houses I saw, the more difficult it became to believe it. 

After a few too many Craig's List specials we were losing hope fast. "Cozy cottage" is a description I will forever be wary of.

Enter Sandy, the self proclaimed matchmaker of people and homes. I will elaborate in my blog later (after we've packed and unpacked), but suffice it to say, she is who she says she is. 

Coincidences happened. Things flowed. It felt right.
When things are flowing nicely, it's easy to trust. 

It's the spaces in between where I spin a million scenarios.

In that space we were waiting for the lease.

On a side note, it's never advisable to tell another Manhattan resident that you haven't actually signed the lease yet on your new place. Signing of the lease here is swift if not instantaneous, for fear of losing the apartment.

Spin, spin, spin....

I kept saying, "Trust yourself." I failed miserably.

Then we got the lease.

Lesson learned.  I hope.