But I'm Still Crossing My Fingers And I'd Cross My Toes If I Could
I haven't written much about our new house because, quite frankly, I've been afraid I would jinx it. And jinxing, as we all know, is a deeply legitimate and terribly spiritual phenomenon - utterly reliable in its ability to Bring Doom Upon All and advocated by pastors from their pulpits in churches far and wide.
Ahem.
A-HEM.
But honestly, it's really only been in the last two days that I've been able to say the words "we're moving" without a trace of fear or intestinal disturbance or some combination of the two.
I'm so not kidding.
You see, when faced with Major Life Changes, I find that I frequently while away the hours doing productive things like Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop, Imagining The Worst Possible Outcome, along with my favorite: Figuring Out Why Good Things Can't Possibly Happen To Me.
And apparently? If you put me in the middle of not one but two housing transactions? Well, as my mama would say, I can worry the horns off of a billy goat.
It's been so much fun!
Just ask our realtor!
So I’ll spare you the details of how completely sick I am of my stupid, pointless worrying. I’ll spare you the details of how I’ve realized that I obviously need to take a couple of steps down the Spiritual Maturity Ladder since my heel keeps getting caught on that pesky Ye Of Little Faith rung. That’s a post in and of itself, but I'm not going to write it because it would make me want to flail and flog myself.
With reeds. Or perhaps a cat-o-nine-tails.
Anyhoo, now that we’re on the other side of The Unfortunate Septic Tank Incident, now that we know the only thing we have to do to our house post-inspection is to TIGHTEN THE BOLTS ON THE TOILET IN THE MASTER BATHROOM (yes, you read that correctly. We have to tighten four bolts. The end.), now that we’re only ten days away from closing, I feel like I can exhale, and I want to tell you something:
I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE the new house.
(Here is where my mother-in-law would say, “Well, I don’t really love it. I mean, I love God, I love people, but I don’t love things. So I don’t really love it. But I DO like it. I really really like it. A lot. Well maybe I love it just a little bit. Not like I love God or I love people, but I do love it just a little bit.”)
And we're really excited about the move.
And I'm really glad that I can talk about it now.
And I'm probably going to drive you crazy.
And that's probably nothing new.
So we should be just fine.
Especially since that pig with steam coming out of its nose is no longer at the top of my blog.
Ahem.
A-HEM.
But honestly, it's really only been in the last two days that I've been able to say the words "we're moving" without a trace of fear or intestinal disturbance or some combination of the two.
I'm so not kidding.
You see, when faced with Major Life Changes, I find that I frequently while away the hours doing productive things like Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop, Imagining The Worst Possible Outcome, along with my favorite: Figuring Out Why Good Things Can't Possibly Happen To Me.
And apparently? If you put me in the middle of not one but two housing transactions? Well, as my mama would say, I can worry the horns off of a billy goat.
It's been so much fun!
Just ask our realtor!
So I’ll spare you the details of how completely sick I am of my stupid, pointless worrying. I’ll spare you the details of how I’ve realized that I obviously need to take a couple of steps down the Spiritual Maturity Ladder since my heel keeps getting caught on that pesky Ye Of Little Faith rung. That’s a post in and of itself, but I'm not going to write it because it would make me want to flail and flog myself.
With reeds. Or perhaps a cat-o-nine-tails.
Anyhoo, now that we’re on the other side of The Unfortunate Septic Tank Incident, now that we know the only thing we have to do to our house post-inspection is to TIGHTEN THE BOLTS ON THE TOILET IN THE MASTER BATHROOM (yes, you read that correctly. We have to tighten four bolts. The end.), now that we’re only ten days away from closing, I feel like I can exhale, and I want to tell you something:
I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE the new house.
(Here is where my mother-in-law would say, “Well, I don’t really love it. I mean, I love God, I love people, but I don’t love things. So I don’t really love it. But I DO like it. I really really like it. A lot. Well maybe I love it just a little bit. Not like I love God or I love people, but I do love it just a little bit.”)
And we're really excited about the move.
And I'm really glad that I can talk about it now.
And I'm probably going to drive you crazy.
And that's probably nothing new.
So we should be just fine.
Especially since that pig with steam coming out of its nose is no longer at the top of my blog.
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