Sometimes Willy Loman

Lately, I've been feeling like Willy Loman.  Okay, not the Willy Loman toward the end of the play, but rather the Willy Loman who goes around pathetically trying to catch a break only to be broken.  We did not book an apartment for our six-month stay.  Instead, we booked an apartment (at an outrageous price) for five weeks, in the hopes that we'd be able to get one during that time.  Our search for an apartment in Barcelona has been fruitless and at times, I can't help but think that I'm giving off an air of desperation.  Barcelona is an expensive city in which to live, and that narrows our choices quite a bit, considering that we're a large family.  My persistent, at times stubborn, perspective that we should have a place with two bathrooms has now given way to the reality that we need whatever is best for us.  We've gone through just about every web site imaginable and as it turns out, a handful of apartments were taken up immediately.  A week into this new life, I find that some agencies don't want to rent that far ahead.  One apartment we loved, for example, is being held open in the agency's hope that they'll find someone to move in immediately.  So off I go, striking out, but hoping to rebound.