Well, we have taken one giant step toward becoming even more adult than we already are (I’m tellin’ ya, that wedding ring throws me off every time!) — yep, that’s right. We bought a house.
I keep saying that, then qualifying myself. We haven’t technically bought it yet, right? I mean, we found it. And we placed an offer. And they accepted it. And we have a signed contract and are in the process of closing our mortgage. But it’s not our house until we have the keys — or so the husband tells me.
Still, I can’t help fantasizing about all the delicious things I shall to do our house. Errr… the house.
It’s a cutie-patootie 1950s number, concrete block, with a basement-level garage in the midst of quite the nice neighborhood. The front steps lead up to a slate-tiled front porch, the first sign that this house has been rehabbed in a serious way. In fact, the seller is still sprucing things up, putting final touches on the kitchen (uh, the brand-new, open plan kitchen with granite countertops, hardwood cabinets, stainless steel appliances, a stainless steel double sink and a wet bar YES ANOTHER SINK BASICALLY THREE SINKS FOLKS), bathrooms, and family room. The floors have been replaced with amazing dark hardwood. The windows are new. The bathrooms are all new – new tiles, new vanities, new sinks. The back yard is plenty big for Ro-Po to race around a couple hundred times.
Oh, and also? It’s ours. Like, we’re going to own it.
We’re just waiting for the sellers to finish up their work and close the permits, and then we shall set a closing date. As excited as I am, I can’t help doing that thing I do — namely, worrying just for worries’ sake.
I’m worried we won’t get final loan approval. I’m worried it won’t pass a home inspection. I’m worried it won’t appraise. I’m worried everything will work out then we’ll move in and realize it’s a money pit. I’m worried we’ll be broke. I’m worried we’ll lose our jobs and then default and go bankrupt all in the span of a few sad months.
A friend wisely point out that I’m so practical, that I guard myself against the unexpected by expecting it. I never enjoy the moment I’m in. And you know what? She’s right. I was ding-donged sure we weren’t going to get the house at all. Our offer seemed ridiculously low for such a house, and one that had been on the market one day. But lo and behold — they signed the contract the same night we submitted it, even after three showings that afternoon.
I’m not one to look for signs (OK, I am), but perhaps that was sign #1 that this is indeed Our House.
Only time will tell! We may be back on the market for a different abode in time. But for now, I’m letting myself be excited and Pin home ideas and surf Craigslist and fantasize about all the new furnishings we’ll need to acquire to replace our shabby stuff.
Do you have a hard time living in the now?