It's A Good Thing I'm Not Rich...

We're on the verge of a major life moment.  Like, a big ADULT thing.  After working for the past five years on updating our home, we've sold it.  Well, so long as everyone signs the paperwork this coming Friday.  Being me, until I have ink on the paper and money in the bank, it's not really sold.


The BIG part of this is we've bought a house.  And it's an adult house.  Really, it has a garage.  And an attic.  For some reason, although I've owned 3 houses in my adult life, this feels really grown-up.  I guess because we're buying it together and it's going to be a non-fixer-upper.  Well, okay, it is a fixer-upper, but that will be done when we move in.  We think.  We hope. Yeah, okay, we'll see.


Better Half and I promised each other when we finally sold this house, we'd have our next one be move-in ready.   No more Saturday morning trips to buy paint or other home improvement crap.  No more sacrificing saved-up money for un-fun things like bath remodeling.  No more child-stained furniture with sprouts of stuffing springing from the cushions.  It would be all adulty...not in a XXX way, but a place we'd invite other adults over for football games and just hanging out.  


Now that the process is in motion, I realize it is my duty to keep that promise.  But, that promise takes one HUGE thing:  Money.  One would think I would enjoy this.  What I've learned in the past few days is this:  Spending ginormous amounts of moolah makes my stomach ache and my head spin.  It makes my mouth dry.  I hesitate and second-guess my decisions.  I can't commit to anything.  I'm amazed I could tell another human being I would be with him for the rest of my life when I can't make a decision on a stupid fabric.  Granted I have done that with two different human beings, but I meant it the second time.


I've decided I would totally suck at being rich.  Not that I'm not willing to experience that, mind you.  It's just hard throwing down the money and knowing a year from now my appliances won't be cutting-edge.  Cause, really, I have no idea what true European convection cooking is because I do well to master toast.  I picked all gray fabric for the couch because patterns are too much commitment.  My lesson?  I've learned that it's truly a case of the grass being greener on the other side.