Wednesday, June 6, 2012


Every time I think about buying a house next year, I get a mini panic attack. I'm kind of excited, kind of nervous, definitely scared and worried that it's not going to happen at all. My arms start to ache, my heart beat quickens and i feel like i'm going to poop in my pants. It's not even next year and i haven't fully paid my credit card off yet and sometimes it feels like it's all so far away. sometimes i have to convince myself that i'm worth it. I should have my own little house. I should have roots for the first time ever.

I didn't grow up in a house. I never had a house that we owned. We lived in NY; everything was rent, rent, rent. I didn't understand that people could own their homes, until i moved to Cambridge, MA. I think everyone owned their own home there.

Well my dream and doable goal is to buy a house next year. I live in California and the houses are expensive, but people do it and I think I can too. I know what I want and I pray i can find it without moving too far from where we are now. I want a big backyard and a nice kitchen. I can deal with the rest. We can fix up a bathroom or a bedroom, paint the outside...but those are my two main requirements. I want to plant a garden, have a mini agility course, some grass so that i can lay around with my pup, friends etc and a cool place to BBQ. I want Bella to feel free in the backyard and be able to play catch. The kitchen I want to be big. I want counters. I just want space!!! I ask of course that everything I cannot see like strange fungii, bugs, foundation stuffs are in good shape and nothing is eating at my house.

I love thinking about the backyard. The thought makes me happy. I don't like thinking about the nerves, stress and crying bouts I'm going to have when i find something and it doesn't go my way...I have to remember to ask my doctor for large amounts of valium during this period.

So you're probably wondering (or maybe not) about Gerr. Well he's going to stay with me, but the house will be mine, because I will be buying it. He doesn't seem too interested in buying it together (which makes me super nervous if he wanted to), I think he likes spending his money on the dune buggy and his business. That's fine, give me the house. I want it! I don't want to rent anymore! I want a large space and to make holes in the walls and be like "hehehe, that's mine".

One more year and I can start looking. So strange, but yet I know I deserve a gift that big. I've worked so hard in so many ways. I can only hope and pray that my depression, manic bipolar disorder, anxiety and fybro cooperate with me. Hence the valium.

the front yard's a bit too big!

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