Offer.

I've put an offer in on a home.  It's not my first offer on a home but it's still nervous-making.  This will be the third home I've offered on and by far the one that's needed the most work.  I'm anticipating that someday (hopefully very, very soon) when an offer is accepted and I become a homeowner, that it will be as transcendent as I think it will be.  I'll be a home owner.  A.home.owner.  That's a pretty big deal for a self-made vagabond like me.  It's the most permanent fixture I'll have ever had.  I'm not trying to over-inflate this simple thing that people do every day; I'm just trying to convey to you, dear friend, the depth of my inexperience.

I found myself worrying recently on whether or not it's okay to paint wood, if I should forego my desires for white wood in order to keep the integrity of the home, if when I eventually sell the home if some stranger will wonder 'what was she thinking?!'.  I worry that a fence will close me off too much to the neighbors, if it will make me seem unapproachable.  Those are silly things to worry about (I know) but I find myself thinking about them nonetheless.  I won't even go into detail that I worry about the neighbors' potential food allergies should I bake cookies or a lasagna to introduce myself.

Enough of my neurosis.  I'm preparing for this next endeavor by reading as much as I can, watching as many Rehab Addict-like shows as I can, researching property taxes (I'm basically an expert), crunching numbers, budgeting (something I don't like at.all) and enjoying the last of my super long nails.  I'm hoping for some great news this week.  I've found that a lot of this process is really about hope.