Our besties predicted that after five or six weeks in this tiny apartment, we would be going crazy. They were generous. It has been, what, four weeks on Saturday? Feels like a lifetime. I can't escape soon enough. I need grass and a bigger variety of rooms to choose from, and a buffer between me and the neighbors. We met the young couple who rent the house to the south of our new one, and I've spoken to or waved at the wife three times now. For as long as they remain next door, I think we shall get along well. I snooped around on the Internet, and discovered that the house to the north of our new one went under contract the day we toured the brick house. It makes me wonder even more, why did that seller's agent do nothing about the water problem between our houses? We called the day we toured our house, and informed him that they were missing a sprinkler head, and it was soaking the ground between both houses. The crack in the bricks is worse on the north house, visible from my new bedroom window. I'm so curious about the people buying that place. I want so much to have cool neighbors, and I daydream about us having a common bond, moving in at the same time (and less fun, sharing a swampy yard).
We get to be on site tomorrow, while our seller gets a second bid on the roof. I'm tempted to show up with a tape measure and a notebook. I want to start planning furniture arrangements. I've gotten a lot up support for the ceiling fan I think would be perfect for that house, but so far none of those people have said a word to Mr S-P. Come on, folks. Change his mind about the fan from yesterday's pictures. (The first one with the chrome edging on the drum shaped light kit, and the glass bulb detail--it's perfect for a mid-century modern house!) But then, I think all of his creativity now is dedicated to building his base camp on the claim. Maybe I can just convince him to let me make all the design choices on this house, assuming I can carry the furniture and accessories to each of the correct rooms.
I did nothing strenuous today. I shopped, I babysat, and I played computer games. I watched the cats play with joyful abandon while the dogs are on a two-night camp out in the mountains. I have no reason to be drooping this badly. But in the immortal words of Lili Von Stupp, "Goddammit, I'm pooped." It must be the heat and the sameness of waiting for the big change. Twelve days now. Maybe. If I'm lucky, I will just sleep through the next week and a half.
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