That’s my fun day, my I-don’t-have-to-run day

At my first job out of college, Monday nicities about “how was your weekend?” revealed that a coworker spent Sunday in bed.  This struck me as weird (so weird that six years later, it still sticks out). I guess I just didn’t understand why that would be enjoyable and, poor little sheltered me hadn’t yet experienced a relationship in which I would want to stay in bed all day with a certain someone.  This coworker was a quasi-newlywed and now that I think of it, pregnant shortly after this conversation took place.
I was maybe 22 at the time and just starting to figure out the whole “adult” thing and staying in bed all day just didn’t seem very “adult.” However, fast forward six years and while I still don’t fully get the adult thing, I’m doing better…I kept my house clean all weekend, shopped for grown up clothes, participated in FFF as necessary and then…I spent Sunday in bed.  And it was glorious.
Yes, I alluded the the fact that my coworker all those years ago might have been getting horizontally jiggy with it, but I assure you, I was not. I was alone. And it was still glorious.
I used to be very big on not wanting to be alone on Sundays, but yesterday it felt more like a choice. I wasn’t waiting around for a stupid boy to call, wondering if he’d find time for me. I was crocheting, snoozing, watching bad reality TV and snuggling with an empathetically lazy puppy dog.
It’s what I needed and I’m starting to realize that being an adult is about giving yourself what you need, not doing what others want you to do because it’s the “adult” thing.
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The Adult List

On Tuesday, I put on a very adult outfit.

One part because we had clients in the office, one part because I was seeing Lucky for the first time in a while and knew the dress + heels would get him (and they did) and one part because I was signing my loan documents for my very first home and dressing the part seemed appropriate.

The adult line has been drawn many times so far in my life…when I turned 18, when I turned 21, when I graduated college + started my first real job + lived on my own out of the dorms + started paying for a just about everything on my own (that was a big one), when I really started paying for everything on my own.  But NOW, homeownership…woo-eee, no turning back.

Going through the home buying process, not alone, but more alone than I expected to be on a few levels, was a great experience.  Along the way, I’ve come up with some ideas about adult things I must do or not do, have or not have now that I’m a mortgage-paying member of adulthood.

I probably shouldn’t buy things I can’t afford.  Well, you know, except for the house.  I don’t think too many adults actually follow this guideline, but I’d like to be more consistent with my maturity, responsibility and self-control when it comes to spending. Because, you know it’s the adult thing to do.  Of course, there’s the annoying, little fact that moving makes you want to purge everything you own that was perfectly acceptable for the last year or however long you’ve had it and buy all new everything, coordinating everything, shiny and pretty everything, but I have a little left in my up-front home fund and everything else can wait.

I’m pretty sure homeowners sit on their patios and drink coffee in the morning, wine at night.  This has actually always been a vice of mine and I get TWO patios in my new place, so I don’t think this will be an issue.

Women who own homes have pretty lingerie.  I have sexy lingerie, but lately I’ve been noticing the pretty pieces that just scream to be worn around the house when it’s just me, you know, being an adult.

I recently read a blog post about completely free ways to make your house a home.  My apartments have been increasingly homey, but this condo is 100% mine and I want to feel as such, by speaking fondly of it and my things, spending time there, spreading out to utilize all the space and filling it with music.  My adult music of choice?  Frank and Michael.

Adults must, from September to February, stock beer in the fridge for football season.

My new place needs some kind of cohesive style throughout the house that utilizes more new furniture than hand-me-downs or Craigslist purchases.  This comes back to the money, money, money issue, so I will be patient.

I am definitely going to need a cleaning schedule and the motivation to follow it.  Or maybe a cleaning lady.

This new line, with the definitive before and after, is an opportunity to renew my ideas about who I am and who I want to be, what I want to do with my life, who I want to let in my life, who I need to let go from my life. 

Like everything, it’s a work in progress.

A Small Picture

I’ve had moments since graduating college where I’m like, wow, I’m an adult, but nothing hits you harder than owning a home…well, owning a mortgage on a home and having the blessing of paying a bank every month for the next thirty years of your life.

In discussing the home and the whole process I’ve been going through with my mom, she had one of those “I can’t believe my baby’s buying a house” moments. To her, I’m 12. To my dad, I’m about 8 so he’s having an even tougher time with it.

All my apologies to feminism, but I was susceptible to the Prince Charming and happily ever after influences of my childhood and never really imagined I’d buy a house on my own. It wasn’t even on my radar until maybe about a year ago and sadly, even at that point, my thought process was like, “with my luck, I’ll give in and buy a house and a week later meet Prince Charming and he’ll have his own place and we’ll just be a mess of real estate.”

Lucky has a place, but I decided to buy after meeting him and before knowing where our relationship is going because that’s the best I could do. 

As Oprah says and as I’ve named my blog:

“Doing the best in this moment puts you in the best place for the next.”

I made the decision that was right for me right now and as I read recently:

“It will all add up to something, even if it’s disconnected now.”

You can’t know the big picture, you just piece together the little ones until you see it. When I was in the mess of the first house I put an offer on, my feeling was that I just wanted to fast forward a few months to get through the stressful bits of the loan process, escrow, the renovations and be there already. That was probably my first sign that something was off. I’m excited about this big event in my life now and the journey that I imagine it’s starting me on.

Coffee on the house!

I briefly mentioned here that I put an offer on a house, but my, how things have changed since then.

Too many DIY home shows had me thinking a cheap fixer-upper was perfect for me, but after the offer was accepted and my earnest money was handed over, it was time for inspection and the inspection freaked me the fuck out. Suddenly the renovations I would have had to do + the renovations I was dreaming of to turn it into a cute, little, perfect-for-me home > my budget + my comfort zone + my anxiety threshold.

Still within the ten days I had to back out without penalty, I produced a new list of properties to check out and my very patient (and caring and sexy and…okay, Lucky is my realtor) realtor took me on home tour #2 and I found a different place that I loved and felt much more at ease about and did a little switcheroo.

Sooo…escrow opened yesterday.  The word escrow always makes me think of this Gilmore Girls episode where Luke’s brother-in-law runs around screaming that he’s in escrow:

Ahh, I miss Gilmore Girls.

Anyway, being newly IN ESCROW means another inspection period, and even though now that I know first hand that can change things, I don’t see it happening that way and imagine this time it’s just going to rock on by and before I know it I’ll be moving into this new place that I’m now dreaming about.

So, what exactly am I dreaming about?  Well, that was going to be the point of this post, but my long-story-short turned into a bit of a long-story-longer and I will save that for next time!