For those who still belive in the magic of Christmas
It was Christmas. Ok, it was actually early November, but I was one of those classic girls in love with the Christmas season who started organizing two months before the actual date and who listened to festive music all year round. There was a reason my friends called me Noelle instead of Natalie, my real name. Lights, decorations, snow-covered trees, hot chocolate, there wasn't one of those things that I didn't love with all of myself. One of my favorite parts of the Christmas season was buying gifts for everyone, I loved giving gifts to people to show them the love I had for them. This year, however, I had a problem: my bank account had suffered greatly from my many fall shopping sessions, and having just been fired from my job only complicated the situation even more. Now, a rational girl would obviously find another job right away, but I was convinced that I had found a better and simpler solution. A roommate. Of course, I would also have looked for a job, but I needed something more immediate. I had an empty room in the house, the classic guest room that parents usually use when they come to visit you. I had already thought of everything; we would split the expenses, and once I found a new job, I would save money and go back to living alone. Maybe I would even find a new place that better suited my needs. I had spent the weekend printing and hanging flyers all over the neighborhood, I had even put one on the bulletin board outside the town hall. I was determined to find someone as soon as possible. Of course, I had done the math, and what I had would have been enough for another month or two, but I couldn't afford the extra expenses. Which was a problem for me. So I hoped that my savior would soon show up at my door. Of course, I had specified on the paper that I was looking for a girl. I had no intention of living with rebellious kids who had run away from home or men over fifty. I wasn't desperate enough to put up with living with an unknown man.