My hubby and I made the momentous decision to buy a house on the weekend – the house of my dreams, with an enormous back yard, and plenty of scope for improvement, a house with lovely old bones and faded beauty, a few creaky stumps and solid weatherboards. Our bid was approved, scarily. We are now waiting on bank approval, which might be difficult to reach, and frantically doing our taxes and other things so that we have a good leg to stand on, as it were. We might have no leg to stand on. Which would be sad, but not unexpected, given my dodgy brothers peripatetic income and poor track record (don’t you just love bad debt and bad ex-husbands?)
I ask, does buying a house make me happy? I don’t know yet, because I am so stressed about the bank decision that I can hardly think straight, and I also had a job interview today. Last week was my mid-candidature review (which went well) but now I have to do the submission, and then, to top it all off, I bingled my car yesterday and I’ve had to find $400 for the excess to have it repaired. If we get this big old house, will I be happy?
I don’t know. I hope so. I’m pretty happy now. Not miserable, like 4 months ago, but a tad stressed. Can one be happy but stressed? What are the indicators of happiness? I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure that I’m happy-ish. I don’t want to cry, or anything. Although I am SO tired right now I could just lie down and sleep and it’s only 7.30pm. And I am now rambling, I am so exhausted. My students have, as a group, decided not to show up tonight, which is the ether calling out to me that I should not be teaching tonight, good old ether.
Time to go and make dinner, I think, and stop rambling incoherently on the internet.