With a little more than a month to go before the baby, The Civee and I decided we didn’t want life getting too boring.
So we bought a house.
It’s something we’ve wanted to do for a while. We had been looking (not too seriously) for the past year and a half or so, but around January decided if we were going to make a move, it would be better to do so before the arrival.
For the past month, we’ve been embroiled in bidding and negotiating over the house, and praying for the snow on the roof to melt so the inspector could make sure there weren’t any gigantic holes or leaks. And it all came down to yesterday- the closing date. I’ve heard the horror stories from others- the feeling that you’ll be paying forever for a house, having to sign your name hundreds of times and the general nervousness about the whole situation.
But it wasn’t that bad. Sure, my hand still hurts from signing my name so many times. And I don’t even remember half of the things I signed. The worst part was trying to keep up with all the different conversations that were going on between the other people in the room as we were trying to sign the papers. But I had The Civee with me. And at the end, we got a set of keys to a house that we can call our home.
For the past ten years, I’ve lived in apartments where the walls had to stay white. Before that, for most of my life, I’ve lived in homes attached to other structures. Well, our house is free-standing. And we can paint the walls whatever color we want. It’s an older house, and I can’t stand in the basement, but I don’t care about any of that.
So for the next few weeks, we’re going to be painting and moving. I should have time to write about 24 and Lost and whatever other nonsense I usually write about.
Hopefully, we’ll be able to get everything done before the arrival of …. I can’t say her name yet. But you’ll find out soon enough.