Although the search is slow, I have remained unusually calm. For whatever reason (God), I believe the right house will come along at the right time. However, I suspect the uncertainty has caused a bit of subconscious stress that my sleeping self processes for the awake me. For example, last night’s dream of a house showing: we arrive promptly for the scheduled showing and the owners are home, along with their dog, cat and parrot running around the house. This wouldn’t even be a problem for me except we brought our own dog to the showing, of course, because this is normal. I am very excited about this house. One feature that especially appeals to me is the laundry tub. It’s in the kitchen. I tell Jeff this will be handy for bathing our dogs. He looks at me like I have lost my mind. I recognize this look from real life.
As the owners show us around, they point out what they describe as a “minor issue” that I had missed. It is on the entry way ceiling and resembles something from the Amityville Horror. It is green and paranormal-like and anything but minor. Jeff announces it will cost “18 grand” to fix this, a number he could only have pulled from nowhere because what is his point of reference to repair ghost damage? The owner disputes his estimate saying it will only cost $6,000, and I assume we can meet in the middle on this because I’m very attached to the kitchen laundry tub.
In real life I’m slightly more rational and we have developed a routine. As the weekend approaches, we make a list of potential houses. Usually the list has 2 addresses. We look at both houses and rule them both out. Sometimes we see a house that meets all of our criteria: east metro, could comfortably live in it for 10 years, could sell it in a month, and it has walking paths. But then I explain I just don’t have the right feeling about it. My realtor acts like this is normal, but is it?
Sometimes we casually mention “Sunbury” – the house we didn’t get. The house we loved. The house that was perfect. But we don’t dwell. We know if we found one house, we can find another one. Sometimes there is a new listing during the week, which prompts a “I think this is the one!” text to my realtor. I wonder if she keeps a tally. I have declared houses as being “the one” before photos are even posted because I can visualize in my mind what I think it should look like (it should look like Sunbury). Photos have never once matched my imagination. This will not prevent future “I think this is the one!” texts. My realtor can confirm this.
This is my favorite app:
Scrolling through this app over and over does not cause new listings to appear. I spent so much time on this app, I finally forced myself to do a 24 hour fast from looking at it. I told my realtor I was “taking a break” from house hunting. That’s not confusing.
Yet….I am mostly calm. I keep putting it in God’s hands, (and a little in sleeping Rhonda’s dreams.) And I look forward to our next chapter, however that looks, whatever the address.