house, and not of the crazy doctor variety

Gee wiz! We’re going to put in an offer on a house. A house!

… And now I’ve probably jinxed the whole ordeal by saying something. Note to self: In the future, don’t blog about Major Life Events until you’re absotively posolutely sure about ’em. Mmkay? But since I’ve already fecked it all up, here’s how it’s going to go down:

Us, plus one house, equals… headaches! Anxiety! Nausea! Mild constipation and a burning rash across the inner thigh!

I get it! Buying a house is kind of like having the flu! For 30 straight years!

No, no, everyone tells me; that gastric discomfort you’re feeling is just the anticipation of the pride you’ll feel when you become a new homeowner. Really.

The rash? Well, they have clinics for that.

The point is, we’d finally be out from the under the proverbial landlord’s foot. I just did the math, and over the last five years, we’ve spent approximately 36k on rent alone. That’s a lot of brand new cameras, the likes of which I’ll never see because we may or may not be buying a house. A house.

And did I mention the part about the house?

Besides… we’ve spent two years scaring the neighbors with our careless, naked cavorting in front of wide open windows (curtains are for sissies). It’s time to take this show on the road! 15 miles down the road, to be exact. Practically on the doorstep of our employer, no less.

And we’d be building equity! EQUITY!

(… what’s equity, anyway?)

I’m kidding. I know what equity is.



Wish us luck!


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