I both love and hate home hunting, be it apartments or houses or both. I love looking at Craigslist ads for housing, until I don’t anymore. Until I have spent SO MUCH TIME looking at Craigslist ads and have found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING that is EVEN CLOSE to what I want in my price range, and I’m SO SICK of seeing the SAME ads for the SAME apartment complexes that will NEVER let me and my three cats live there in peace.

And I love looking at apartments and houses and floorplans and imagining where all my stuff would go and what it would feel like to come home to this space every night, until I realize that this place is ALL WRONG. Then I just want to leave RIGHT NOW. Like the one time I was checking out a one bedroom in Oakland, and it was ADORABLE, and had really beautiful hard wood floors. And then I walked in the bedroom. It was the TINIEST LITTLE-BITTIEST room I have EVER seen. And the closet was a joke. I could hang a total of three things in there. And I knew, I KNEW I couldn’t live there, but I still had to look at the kitchen and bathroom and ask smart sounding questions and pretend like I was interested. Because I don’t want to waste everyone’s time by leaving thirty seconds after I walk in. This is when a lemon law for housing would be handy.

So it was with excitement and some trepidation that I went into this most recent round of home hunting, except it was harder now because not only was I looking for a place that fit all my criteria (which are mostly allowing three cats and having a washer and dryer), but I had to find one that fit all my feller’s criteria too (which mostly dealt with location in relation to his work and soundproofing). But finally, FINALLY, I found a few places that fit the bill, and we were off checking them out. After being stood up by one realtor, we looked at a house together. I don’t know about him, but it was practically love at first sight for me. It has this AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL picture window on the front porch and a large living room with a fireplace and BUILT IN SHELVING. I LOVE built in shelving. Built in shelving rockets an okay place into being a place I might want to live. I LOVE IT. And then the feller says HE loves it! And I love it! And WE LOVE IT! LOVE LOVE LOVE!

And then comes the waiting. We’ve applied, we’ve touched base with the owner, we’re waiting to hear if we get the house we love. Did I mention we love it? In fact, I may or may not have already started mentally decorating it (I DID). My plants are already living in the laundry room during the winter months. The breakfast nook is already my study corner. I’m already working out how to fix the awkward angle of the tv to the couch to the fireplace. I’m already (mentally) sending dang mail there. So pretty much, I can ONLY think positive thoughts because, otherwise, someone is kicking me out of my home. MY HOME. MINE.

And thank the sweet baby Jesus, we got it. I got the call this morning offering us the house “if [we]’re still interested”. Still interested? Heck, aren’t I already LIVING there?

Move in is next Saturday. This next week will be a flurry of packing and getting utilities turned on and switched over and calling the internet company to ask why the FUCK my bill just jumped up by $20?! That shit don’t fly around here.