It was going to take the moving truck exactly seven days to make the long trek from Miami to Orange County.

So the clock was ticking for Lou and me to find a place to live — and, so we could provide the driver with an address to deliver our things! Lou had already done some scouting while I was still in Miami, and he had narrowed down our choices to Newport Beach or Irvine.

His new office was actually about 20 minutes from these two towns, but Lou really thought it would be nice to build our life away from his office. So he took me on a grand tour of both areas, and I was in total agreement that we should pick a place in one of these two cities.

But when Lou first picked me up from the airport, I think I was still having trouble remembering that we were actually moving, and not just on vacation. Everything happened so fast, and I was still functioning on East Coast time in many respects. 

But Lou was so happy and ready to run. He felt full of ideas, and he was invigorated by this new opportunity. This was going to be a brand new start for us, and to see Lou so happy made me feel better, too. So, I just took Lou’s hand, and let him lead the way. 

Lou found three condo buildings that all fit our budget, and, they each had great amenities so we could jump into the SoCal lifestyle with ease. We didn’t have an Omar in Orange County, but it was instantly obvious that getting a place in California was less complicated than it was in Miami. Each building Lou picked had an on-sight real estate agent, so it was quick and easy to find out if you were eligible to rent before they even showed you the place. 

Within three days, Lou and I had settled on a stunning one-bedroom condo in an elite high-rise building in Irvine. The building had a 24-hour doorman, rooftop pool, fitness room, and this incredibly gorgeous common area with Viking outdoor grills and teak dining tables.

It was stunning. 

The owner of our unit was a Persian man, and he had originally purchased the unit three years prior for his son who was going to attend UC Irvine — which was only a mile away from the building. But at the last minute, his son decided to go to UCLA. (Nice options, right?) 

Our landlord had previously rented our unit to a very busy anesthesiologist. We were told the doctor was almost never there — but I do know that when he was, he must have eaten a lot of frozen dinners because the “reheat” button on the microwave was totally worn out! But other than that button, when we toured the unit, everything looked brand new and in perfect condition. And, it was absolutely beautifully decorated.

I remember being enamored by how well the space flowed. The main living area was very large, which allowed for it to be set up with two seating areas: one that was oriented for watching the big screen TV, and the other was facing a fireplace that was positioned right next to an open balcony. There was a huge bookcase that partitioned the two seating areas, and it had beautifully bound books and exotic looking candles in each cubby of the shelving unit.

The dining area had a huge rustic wooden table with padded bench seats on both sides, and then two crazy purple tufted chairs on the ends. Another bookcase and a huge wooden desk were placed in this small alcove in the main area of the condo — which was clearly this doctor’s home office.

The master bedroom had the most amazing king-sized bed that was low to the ground, but was dressed with exotic looking bedding that made it look like a Moroccan hotel suite. Every single detail in the condo was perfect, and it made the space look like a magical hideaway.

Lou and I took one look at this place and said, “This is the one we want!”

I remember lying in a hotel bed the night we signed the lease, imagining myself in that gorgeous new place that had Viking appliances and perfectly polished black marble countertops. It wasn’t anything like my Miami loft — and it was so small in comparison. However, I felt excited to picture my new California life in that beautiful condo.

But on the day before we were scheduled to move into our place, I was almost certain we picked up the keys to the wrong condo. When I opened the door to my new home, it was totally empty.

And, it was completely bland. 

The walls were freshly painted a dull cream color, and the carpets were boring beige. I moved into the main area of the condo, and the only evidence of the two fancy seating areas were huge indentions in the carpet where the sofas, partition, and tables had been. Same thing in the dining area. 

Everything about the place was off. The condo was small, and plain, and, it felt like we were moving into a very shabby apartment in a very overpriced high-rise. I felt like Lou and I fell for a bait and switch job! I remember feeling duped. 

But this is what I wrote in my journal the night before our stuff was scheduled to arrive:

“The joke is on me. God just pranked me! I told Him I didn’t want to fall in love with my things or my home ever again. I knew I couldn’t handle the pressure, and I didn’t want to find myself in a home that I could lose in the blink of an eye ever again. So in His own perfect way, He showed me something I always seem to want, and then He turned around and gave me exactly what I need. Nothing more, nothing less — which is such a beautiful thing!”

Lesson learned. Well. Maybe…

[NERD ALERT: Debra Newell, the woman in the popular podcast, Dirty John, lived in the penthouse of our building — but I had no idea what was going in her life at the time! I might’ve even seen Dirty John in our building, but he was still running his con on my penthouse neighbor when I was there. See? Everyone’s going through something…]