There’s something about buying a house (or trying to) that creates a huge ball of unrest in the rest of your life. Ok, maybe MY life.
Everything kind of went to pot when we signed those papers … staying on top of laundry, budgets, making meals or even meal planning, groceries and sales?
We’re lucky if I remember to take my 5th styrofoam cup of cold coffee out of the car in the morning … to make room for the 6th.
I don’t know what it is. This weather? Sure. Still being haphazardly in an apartment? Ok. Just getting back from vacation and readjusting to normal again? Yeah, why not. Buying a house and realizing our CPA filed our taxes wrong which puts a hold in the process all the while we still have to get quotes for future work to be done … not knowing where we stand. Ever? Uh, yeah. That’ll do it.
Problem is we moved in here 9 months ago thinking we’d be here for 4 months, tops. I hadn’t planned on needing to know where our winter clothes were, had no idea where the Christmas decor was. I still can’t tell you where the heck my address book is.
When I look for something I’m still first going to the place it used to live in our old house in my mind before I have to go through the process of mentally packing it, storing it and finding it before I even have a clue as to whether or not whatever it is I need made it to the apartment.
And since then? Heck, Aaron’s moved my papers, systems and boxes around more than I can remember. I can’t keep up with this.
And it’s just going to get worse. We’ll be in this apartment for probably 3 more months yet before we close and have the work done on the house. I’ll move after the paint is dry, the dust has been cleaned … I’ll move when I’m assured that all I have to do is move in and organize.
I might get my life back when that happens.