It's wonderful and SO excited, but boy is it a lot of work! More work than planning a wedding, but less work than grad school. Of course, grad school almost killed me (not a metaphor), but that's a story for another day.
Here's a little history about our house hunt:
We started back in the fall. Right now we live in a lovely little valley north of LA, and we were determined to stay here. But the volume of homes for sale in our price range is LOW. We made offers on three homes over a period of three months and got rejected each time. Our offers were good, but every time a place came on the market, it was like a piranha feeding frenzy! Dozens of offers, tens of thousands of dollars over asking price, and people who behaved just terribly. Eventually we accepted the fact that we'd have to widen our net. Once we did so, it took exactly three days to find our new home, make an offer, and get accepted without a single hitch.
|Welcome to my desk.|
I'm immensely grateful that the pieces are falling into place, but I'm also exhausted. This process has become my full-time job. I read and research and call people and email and run back and forth between the bank, our lender's office, and lots of other places. I fill out paperwork and read the fine print and calculate expenses and call my mother about once a day to be reassured that I'm doing this all right. She keeps welcoming me to the adult world and I keep thinking, Thanks, but haven't I been here a while?
Writing is an unfortunate casualty of this process. It's going on the back burner until we're fully moved in. But when I start writing again, in a new home, ahh, that'll just be the best :-)
*FYI, the quote that is the title of this post is from Friends.