so many houses
so many crappy houses
yet crappy ain’t cheap

Wait a second, my phone is ringing.


"Hi there! My name is Miracle A. DreamHouse and I have been trying to track you down."

"Seriously? Because I’ve been looking everywhere for you!"

"My huge floorplan aches for you to walk through it."


"My laundry room sink and kitchen with a built-in desk have been whispering your name in their sleep."

"Aw, I dream about them, too."

"My four spacious bedrooms (or three bedrooms and a study) are craving all of your crap."

"Excellent. My crap craves them, as well."

"And did I mention that I’m affordable, but not falling apart AND I’m only a short commute to downtown AND I’m in walking distance to great schools?"

"Wow! I’m just… just… SO HAPPY you’ve tracked me down. Hang on a second while I grab a pen. OK. Can you tell me your address?

"Sure it’s… hang on I have  another call."

*pause* *pause* *pause* *pause* *pause*

"I’m back."

"Fabulous. What was your address?"

"Oh, um, about that. That was my Realtor on the other line. She says I shouldn’t be talking to you. She says I should only be talking to someone who has $600,000 to spend on a house."

"WHAT?! But I’m pre-qualified! Well, not for $600,000, but still. My credit is good."

"Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna fly unless you suddenly get a job as a CEO of a high-tech company or something."

"I’m a really nice person and I promise to take care of you."

"Even so. I should probably go now. Sorry to have bothered you."

"Wait! Don’t go! Let’s make a deal! Let’s work on a—–"


Aw, crap.

Oh sweet baby Jesus I didn’t realize the home search was going to be this exhausting! I sit for hours at the computer, mapping out houses, looking at virtual tours, calling my Realtor, driving to a house, being completely horrified/traumatized/disappointed/ambivalent about it, driving to another house and LOVING it, but then realizing it’s too expensive, and then driving back home and starting the process all over.

I didn’t add in the parts with a non-stop chatty wee one and screaming wee-er one, because I figure you can intuit that part by now.

Right now we have two houses in the running – an older house that’s still a little too far north of town that we’ve dubbed the "20-year-old Cadillac" (because of it’s groovy paneling and once-upon-a-time fancy-pants features, like a built-in bench in the master shower and a sink in the laundry room) and the brand new house that’s south of town that we’ve dubbed the "Giant and nice but possibly crappily built house with the ugly banister."

Our choices are not bad but are still less than stellar and I’m SO TIRED right now that I’m afraid I’m going to make a stupid decision just to actually have something decided.

We have a bunch of houses to see this weekend, though, so maybe I can track down Miracle A. DreamHouse and slap her into shape.

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