Published: September 4th 2017, 9:24:35 pm
Johnny and I have been looking for an apartment to buy (this is THE BEST reason to date someone with a real job) and we actually found a place way sooner than we expected. And, like, shit has been getting REAL.
We agreed to a price and got a lawyer and started the co-op application. The whole idea of applying to a co-op had me worried because they can reject you for any reason whatsoever and they never have to tell you why. But, like, I can pretend to be normal for ten minutes and my google trail isn't *too* bad, and I got some glowing reference letters from lovely friends who also own co-ops in the neighborhood. But then the application mentioned a home visit and I started to sweat.
I have a lot of stuff. Like, a LOT of stuff. Maybe bordering on hoarding tendencies levels of stuff. It's something I'm working on and my therapist is very confident that once I can get my mental health under control, I will have an easier time letting things go. I'm also pretty confident that once I have a place where I can actually put down roots I can create more elegant storage systems, and not hold onto, say, the metal ikea shelves that I hate but hold onto IN CASE I NEED THEM or random lengths of 2x4 and particle board that have come in handy more times than I'd like to admit. But right now, my home is not a home I want to be judged by. Or even let anyone but my closest friends into.
It was Friday, and I was already worried about this home visit, and then my broker said she expected us to close THIS WEDNESDAY. And the rest of the weekend was a four day slow motion panic attack accompanied by insane, frantic, cleaning. The good news is that I am built to get shit done under pressure and going into "tech week mode" made me more likely to throw things away and not overthink where other things got hid. The bad news is that by Monday morning I was paralyzed by anxiety and nowhere near done. And then my lawyer called me and was like "If these people are rushing you to close by this Wednesday, something is *very* wrong and you should not buy this place."
So I double checked with my broker and she was like "Oh, no, we're not *closing* on Wednesday." and I refrained from saying "Well then maybe those are not the words you should have used." Instead, I was so relived I literally felt lightheaded. I just collapsed on the couch and couldn't move for a couple hours.
So I've been given a reprieve and may actually be able to make my home presentable. We're still a ways from "nice" but very close to no longer being in crazy hoarder territory.