An offer on a house

I’m one of the most horrifically indecisive people I know. I think. No, I am. Probably. I go into a state of absolute despair when asked to decide between getting my margarita frozen or on the rocks. So needless to say, the house hunting process has been … difficult.

I love colonials and dutch colonials and tudors and bungalows and cottages and I want to find something move-in ready but I want to invest in a fixer-upper and make it my own and I need a fireplace but actually a wood burning stove or an electric fireplace might be better and it has to be an open kitchen unless it doesn’t and I don’t really want to mow anything but I NEED green space for the rescue pit bull   (or pug or mini dachshund or Rhodesian ridgeback or English bulldog…) we’re getting. This is what goes on inside my head. ALL the time.

We actually started the offer process on a lovely little rancher last week – I was sure that for the right price, it was the right house. To the point where Charming’s mom flew up to take a look at it with us. And then I panicked, because I love the granite and the open feel but it’s so small and where am I possibly going to store my Tasmanian devil mug??

So we scrapped that 30+ page contract and went back to look at the smelly cape cod with the squat upper-level bump-out that we looked at a couple months ago. And I kind of fell in love with it, rabbit pee and all.

We ruled it out pretty quickly the first time because holy mold-balls, batman, but it turns out what we thought was mold was just good old fashioned dirt and grime. And you couldn’t even get into the sunroom to admire the size and coziness-factor of it because 30+ years of someone’s life was packed in there floor to ceiling.

But this time through the owner had cleaned out the Hoarders-esq piles of crap from most of the house (we still weren’t able to get into one bedroom but such an improvement!) and the 3 or so inches of straight dirt had been peeled off the ceiling fan. All the sudden, my Pinterest boards came to life before my eyes and I could actually see fixing the thing up and living in it.

The basic layout is great – two bedrooms and a full bath on the main floor, a master suite with sitting room and bath upstairs, a sunroom, a finished basement with bar, and a (mostly) fenced backyard with patio. It just needs new drywall and paint and flooring and appliances and fencing and something to get rid of that charming odor combination of rabbit poo and cigarette smoke.

It actually feels really doable (and by that I mean, we’ll throw money at it and make someone else do the hard stuff), assuming there are no structural issues with the house (which we’ll find out in the inspection), so we submitted an offer last night. Now I just have to lie awake at night agonizing over chalkboard walls for the office and what color towels will match the cool retro-50s tile in the bathroom… fingers crossed, and we’ll keep you all (like I have a lot of readers… whatever, I’m optimistic) posted!

Fishing and finishing

I have not been writing as much lately, and it makes me sad. But it’s because I have 3 weeks and 5 days left of graduate school and I refuse to count how many assignments left to complete in that time. But then I will be done. Done!

And I will probably still be mad at Charming, because how am I celebrating my first two days of freedom after THREE AND A HALF YEARS of working full time and going to school part time? By sitting at home, alone, by myself, WITHOUT my fiancé, while said fiancé is fishing. FISHING.

Not that I’m bitter. Oh wait, yes I am. He was supposed to go fishing August 5 – 9, since my final assignment is due August 9. Turns out a 4 day fishing trip is actually an 8 day trip in his book. He and his dad finish fishing in Maine August 9, but he won’t be back in DC until August 11. The only reason it could possibly take 2 full days to get from Maine to DC is if they’re traveling by covered wagon. Which I somehow doubt. Yes, definitely bitter.

This is going to take a VERY nice trip somewhere to make up for it, Charming. I hear Ireland is nice this time of year.

But anyway, I’ll keep posting as much as possible over the next 3 weeks, 5 days, 17 hours, 42 minutes… but who’s counting. And then I’ll be free!