On The Corner Of A Cove

What a weekend! As I wake up Tuesday morning and some of this stuff starts to sink in, I look back and wonder what exactly the hell I just did.

I'll get to that part in just a minute. Right after I sulk a bit about the Vols losing to Florida. I mean, could we give them anything else? How about a win...o.k., we'll take it. I had a great time watching the game and the annual second-game TN/FL frenzy always marks the real start of our college football season, fall, cooler weather, holidays, MLB playoffs....

So, A and I have been mulling over our apartment lately. It's a really nice place, but it is an apartment. If you've ever lived in an apartment you know they aren't built with extraordinary quality parts in most cases and things tend to break. Like the A/C in July. The carpet is cheap, the paint marks up, etc, etc... Then you get the neighbors. A lady who lived across from us was really nice to us all the time; she woke up one morning to some official person with a gun serving her some type of notice from the apartment complex. We never saw her again. And of course there's the rug rats who like to see how loud they can yell before ten in the morning, but only on Saturdays and Sundays. How could I forget the guy who drives this 80s model beat-up pickup truck with flowmasters on it who refuses to drive in the normal entrance. He takes off through the field with his loud hunk and comes out right smack behind where we have to park. I love the cakes and layers of mud that have accumulated in our lot now. It looks like a construction site. I have hundreds more examples. There's the lady across the parking lot from us on the third floor who likes to drop her full trash bags off the balcony and down to the ground from three stories up. Then there's the guy who yells cuss words at the little kiddies I was talking about and any dog who barks before nine am. It's funny really. All's quiet in the complex. The sun glistens to welcome a new day. A dog playfully barks. A man yells SHUT THE *@#* UP.

Recently I was under the impression I was going to move soon with work. That didn't happen. The result was that I have been paying month-to-month rent for quite some time now.

Last Friday I spoke with my VP and asked if I was safe in assuming I was going to be here for at least two more years. I am enthusiastically "rock solid." Great.

I spoke with one of my peers at work who's sister is in the home loan business. That afternoon I was approved and was referred an agent by the mortgage lady. We looked at houses Saturday...all day.

No go. There was nothing in the area we like in my price range. We tell our agent what we'd like and she tells us to go look in a particular neighborhood nearby. We did.

There it was. The house. It sits on top of a 'hill' in the neighborhood on the corner of a cove. It struck A and me like a bolt of lightning all at once. We made an appointment with our agent to look at it Sunday afternoon.

We put a contract on the house, right there in the eat-in kitchen, and if all goes well we are closing at the end of next month and will take possession the day before Halloween.

At the risk of being blasphemous, somehow the weekend loss to the Gators seems to be less painful.

So now I'm just a busy bee. I've got inspectors to inspect, appraisers to appraise, paint to buy, furniture to wish for, a new T.V. to buy, a bedroom I have no idea what to do with, a dining room that will end up being an office most likely because hey, we don't have anything to dine ON, a lawnmower to lawnmow the huge yard I will have to take care of, and a ton of other 'little' things to do.

It's a weird time. With all the crazy stuff going on with work and the house and a huge amount of debt, my stomach has been in knots. Everyone keeps telling me I'm making a great investment - which I know I am. A and I are both so excited, and we've been challenged to fall asleep for thinking about the house. There's just something about laying all that money on the table and taking on so much more responsibility. I've got crap I have to take care of now. I can't just call the office and tell them to come fix a crappy air conditioner or have them tell some crazy man to stop yelling at kids.

I need to go. I have to make a trip to Home Depot and figure out what the hell I'm doing.