On Friday I spent the day in a series of great seminars (I’ll be sharing all the info I learned with you over the next few weeks); a wonderful day punctuated by a not-so-wonderful moment in which I received bad news about the house that we’re presumably moving into within the month, my dream house that I’ve been imagining a life in for two years now…and sort of lost it.
I stepped outside onto the street before answering my phone so that I wouldn’t disturb the event, but as it turned out the acoustics were such that every single person inside the space – we’re talking PR representatives, clients, and approximately 20 bloggers – heard me yell “NONONO!” at the top of my lungs. This, of course, was at the exact moment that a large truck went speeding by, and so the entire group (very understandably) went rushing outside in horror, only to find a sad – but completely intact and unbelievably embarrassed – me. So it’s not like I caused a totally huge, mortifying and unnecessary scene or anything.
We’ll just call that “the cherry on top.”
I’m not going to get into the details of the problem that came up yet because a) I want to see how things play out first so that I’m not constantly going back-and-forth and making grand announcements that don’t pan out (I’ve already done this enough, and it’s exhausting and embarrassing), and b) the details are logistical, difficult to explain, and not exactly high-drama to anyone not in the middle of it, and the last thing I want is to bore you.
Of course, you can’t get away from the “boring” side of house-purchasing: it’s all contracts and lawyers and money and wildly dry-sounding things like zoning regulations and certificates of occupancy. And yet…it’s totally not boring, when it’s you going through it. It’s one of the most intense, overwhelming processes I’ve ever experienced (and this seems to be a common feeling – seriously, everyone who has just gone through the process gets a sort of traumatized, shell-shocked look on their face when the topic comes up).
When I heard people whining about the home-buying process prior to entering into it I thought…you know, holy god, deal with it, guys. You get to buy a house. It’s hard and annoying, and a lot of paperwork is involved. I get it. Also, shush.
But let me tell you: this process is insane, and devastating, and joyful, and a great many other things that you wouldn’t expect to find in the same sentence as “zoning regulations.” Because it’s just a purchase, yeah, but it’s probably the biggest purchase you’ve ever made by a factor of about a million, so you’ve got all those emotions that for most people are naturally tied up with worries about money and security and enormous, life-changing decisions that impact not only them, but possibly their spouses and children as well…but it’s also your home that you’re worrying about. Which is, in many ways, your life. Your family’s life.
There is something about the home – the sense of security and warmth and safety that it embodies – that is deeply rooted in all of us, and the feeling that that home may be taken away…it leaves you feeling dizzy, unsteady.
Breathless.
