(no subject)

So, Wednesday night I had a complete meltdown (one of many), in part because our realtor had told us that the house-season was ending and it was time to decide. Light and I are trying to narrow it down between four possible options, none of which I'm in love with, but anyone of which I could probably move into and not be miserable, and be reunited with my stuff.

Part of me wants to throw my hands up in despair, sever ties with this particular realtor, wait until our house sells and start the whole process over. Part of me just wants Light to pick his favorite house and I'll figure out how to make it work.

I had a dream last night, wherein I went with my mother (of all people) to all four houses, and we spent a while poking around in them, unrushed by my jerkface realtor, and talked about all the pros and cons of each place, and I made a decision and went home, and talked it over with Light and was calm, and confident, and he agreed and we were done with everything and happier.

I woke up, and remembered the gist of the dream, and the luxury and comfort of talking about my choices and bouncing them off of someone less invested than either Light or myself in the outcome, but I don't remember any of what was actually said and I don't remember my final decision. Hell, the houses might not have even been the actual houses we're deciding amongst, but instead other houses entirely.

Oh, unhelpful, exacerbating dreams. You are very much not my favorite thing.

(no subject)

So, Wednesday night I had a complete meltdown (one of many), in part because our realtor had told us that the house-season was ending and it was time to decide. Light and I are trying to narrow it down between four possible options, none of which I'm in love with, but anyone of which I could probably move into and not be miserable, and be reunited with my stuff.

Part of me wants to throw my hands up in despair, sever ties with this particular realtor, wait until our house sells and start the whole process over. Part of me just wants Light to pick his favorite house and I'll figure out how to make it work.

I had a dream last night, wherein I went with my mother (of all people) to all four houses, and we spent a while poking around in them, unrushed by my jerkface realtor, and talked about all the pros and cons of each place, and I made a decision and went home, and talked it over with Light and was calm, and confident, and he agreed and we were done with everything and happier.

I woke up, and remembered the gist of the dream, and the luxury and comfort of talking about my choices and bouncing them off of someone less invested than either Light or myself in the outcome, but I don't remember any of what was actually said and I don't remember my final decision. Hell, the houses might not have even been the actual houses we're deciding amongst, but instead other houses entirely.

Oh, unhelpful, exacerbating dreams. You are very much not my favorite thing.

(no subject)

The Ghosts and Graveyards tour is wicked fun, though I think it was only as awesome as it was because the tourguide was brilliant.

I am pleased with my weekend plans, to boot.

Tomorrow, go to the peabody essex (possibly by ferry) come home, go grocery shopping.
Sunday, apple picking, then open houses, then out for indian food and ice cream, then home for anniversary-present-exchange.

Thank you for all of your lovely words of advice. Upon discussion, I think we're probably going to sever ties with this particular realtor. What this means is that we will not be able (for the next 90 days at least) to purchase any house she showed us, unless we're willing to pay her commission. I think this will be okay, I'm hoping with some more time her under my belt (and possibly some meds) I'll be able to more sanely approach the idea of a new house, and with a new and hopefully kinder real estate agent, I won't feel rushed or dismissed and maybe the whole thing will take on the air of fun that I've been told it can be. (That said, if you've got any nice real estate agents who work in the Somerville area in your pocket, I'd be forever grateful)

I've played more Boggle since moving here than I played in probably the six months preceding moving here. This is a huge mark in eastern mass's favor.

Now to drink sweet mint tea, and pore over all the apple recipes in my cookbooks.

(no subject)

The Ghosts and Graveyards tour is wicked fun, though I think it was only as awesome as it was because the tourguide was brilliant.

I am pleased with my weekend plans, to boot.

Tomorrow, go to the peabody essex (possibly by ferry) come home, go grocery shopping.
Sunday, apple picking, then open houses, then out for indian food and ice cream, then home for anniversary-present-exchange.

Thank you for all of your lovely words of advice. Upon discussion, I think we're probably going to sever ties with this particular realtor. What this means is that we will not be able (for the next 90 days at least) to purchase any house she showed us, unless we're willing to pay her commission. I think this will be okay, I'm hoping with some more time her under my belt (and possibly some meds) I'll be able to more sanely approach the idea of a new house, and with a new and hopefully kinder real estate agent, I won't feel rushed or dismissed and maybe the whole thing will take on the air of fun that I've been told it can be. (That said, if you've got any nice real estate agents who work in the Somerville area in your pocket, I'd be forever grateful)

I've played more Boggle since moving here than I played in probably the six months preceding moving here. This is a huge mark in eastern mass's favor.

Now to drink sweet mint tea, and pore over all the apple recipes in my cookbooks.