2.16.2010

Closing on the House and Not Being Seven Years Old

Okay. We close in less than ten days. We're pretty much done dealing with insurance people, loan people, realtor people. I think we just need to do the walk-through and go to closing, which is on Feb. 26. We got the insurance guy to come down on his price by a couple hundred bucks, and we had to switch to an FHA loan because P. doesn't have a lot of credit history and most of the history I have is bad.

After closing, we paint. Rather, we remove shitty wallpaper, then paint. I'm especially excited for this.

Whatever, I'm excited for all of it -- having my own office again, having a larger kitchen, having a (working) fireplace, better bathrooms...

But after all the moving in and tearing down and whatnot, we have a wedding to plan. Won't be nearly as fun as buying a house.


I was just thinking about how, when I was a kid, I couldn't wait to be all grown up. I'd get to drive, have a credit card, have a job. When I was in elementary school, my friends and I would cut fake drivers licenses and credit cards out of cardboard and glue pictures of my cousin Kristy to them. We'd get our mothers' old billfolds and purses out and, with the drivers licenses and credit cards tucked inside, we'd pretend to drive my mom's Honda over to College. I loved it.

I couldn't wait to be old enough to have a job and take on Responsibility. Be Busy, Be Productive. Now I'm just sitting here, not wanting to finish my edits. What was so bad about being seven years old that I would fantasize about this life? I always wanted it... I drive now, I have credit cards, I have a job, I'm about to buy a house, I'm getting married. Everything I do is an inherent part of being an adult. I drink, I smoke, I swear, I... well, I do a lot of things I didn't do when I was in elementary school. And I wanted that back then, but of course, now it's a hassle.

I should take my Ritalin.

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