After living at camp for well over 9 months now, it's starting to wear on me. It's hard to separate work and my personal life. At the moment, it feels like it all mushes together. Which, truthfully, it does. While we were vacationing in Delaware, my friends and I decided it was time to search for a place to live.
What started as 3 has turned into 5. Am I worried that we'll all walk away from this hating each other's guts? Yes. Somehow, the mix now includes one of my friend's fiancee and then one of the crew trainers that my 2 friends refer to as "their son" because he's.... well. I'll stop myself short.
But I'm excited for the new adventure. I've never had a house of my (sort of) own. It's always been my parents'. But I'll have my own kitchen that I can cook in. I've already started plotting meals, ranging from sushi to italian to soups to big (sort of) holiday meals.
I'm excited to be in a house where I can try my best to not talk about work because guess what? I'm not in a work setting all the time now.
The downfall of all of this is the hunt. We had our list of prospective houses and last weekend drove all.over.Huntsville to look at these properties. Every single house we liked had a U-Haul in front of it. We'd play the game of "In? Or out?" and all of the U-Hauls were for moving in purposes. Insert sighs of frustration here.
Yesterday, my friends called me and ordered me to put some decent pants on and meet them at the gate in 5 minutes. Begrudgingly, I did even after I reminded them that I have no money for food (apparently this wasn't a food run, but alas they found another house, sans U-Hauls in the driveway.) So as we're driving to our destination, they tell me all the cards that I better not pull (safety, cost, size, kitchen, etc) because they love this house and were hoping that I would too. I felt good about the main road we were driving on, but was still apprehensive (and cursing them for making me switch pants because I was getting bad cramps.) I was moaning about cramps and craving chocolate when they pulled into a neighborhood by the huge lake in the area. I (sort of ) quieted down. There were people running... with their dogs. Ok, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. There's clubhouse... with a pool. Score? We turn onto the street leading to the street where the house is. My friends tell me there's no a single space related street in the neighborhood and I'll sound posh when I say the street name. Sussex. Win.
We pull up to the house and it's cute. It has a yard, isn't on top of other houses, doesn't have the look of "I was built in the 70s, can't you tell?", is safe, and? I can finally get a dog! I (literally) grew up with dogs who both died when I was in my teenage years and have been wanting a dog so bad since I was 19. My mom put her foot down on the "no more pets" rule though, so I had to be content. But now? I can get a dog. But not a puppy. There's a whole other list of reasons why on that one.
They (my friends) see the house today. Questions are prepared, I'll be having my fingers crossed. I'm bummed that I won't get to see the house, but I have to work, and well... you have to work to make the money to pay for the house, right?
Right.
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