I’m Asking Nicely

I’m totally an adult. I’ve been paying my own rent, working my way, for more than twenty years. I’ve worked in the same challenging office for ten years. I’ve thoughtfully considered and bought cars. I’ve changed jobs. I’ve (partially) raised a child.

So why am I half-convinced that in less than a month I’ll be renting one specific house of the six we drove by to look at the outsides of last Sunday? I haven’t even seen the inside yet!

Partly it’s that we love the outside of the house. It’s white adobe-looking, with French doors (not the main front door) opening onto a small porch, and neat-looking windows. It’s on a large lot where the roomie can attempt gardening as she wishes to do, and there’s a storage shed where I can keep my bike (when I get a new one) without it being stolen (this time.) There are actual tree-sized trees in the back yard.

We love the area. I have checked, and it is not particularly close to a fire station, as this apartment is. So less sounds of sirens. It does not have a city bus stop in front of it, as the last house did. So less noise of airbrakes, and also hopefully fewer strangers standing in front of our house. It’s on a legitimate, actual small street, but close to a main street so getting to work and everywhere else would still be easy.

Partly, though, it’s just a desperate urgency to get out of this house. It’s so small. My room is so small. A big problem with small spaces is that it’s really hard to keep a small space neat. When you have to move two things to get to a third thing and then you don’t quite get around to putting stuff back because you’ll probably need that third thing again soon…dear lork my room is so depressingly cluttered right now.

I want space. I want a pantry, or a linen closet, or a front closet, maybe. I want to put the vacuum and the carpet steamer in a closet that isn’t my tiny bedroom closet. I want to have a place to put the extra sheets, and room to acquire some more towels. I want to set up my scanner and have my printer where I can actually reach it. I want electrical outlets–at least one!–in the bathroom. And can I please have my bedroom door be more than six inches from the bathroom door, three feet from the litterbox?

Please?

So yeah. I’m hopeful. I hate house-hunting, and after that comes moving. So I’m hoping this one is the one. I want violins, doves, rainbows…I just want to have my house. So I’ll go and see it, and if it’s halfway awesome, I’ll ask the gentleman if I can have it, please, without looking at any others. I just want this to be done.

Please, please, let it be awesome.