I never knew such fun could be had.

Please note the intended sarcasm of that post title.  Thanks.

I think house hunting is one of the most stressful things a working class person can do.  Since we've started our search I have had more sleepless nights and more nausea than any other time of my life.  Worse than pregnancy.  My friend Mhana, one night I got a small insight into the, um, unfortunate condition you have to endure.  Not fun, but at least you inspire me to find humor in it!

The worst part was trying to decide what house we wanted.  Now that the decision has been made and an offer put in, it's really out of our hands and up to higher powers.  It allows us to relax, something that David is eternally grateful for now that I'm not quite such an emotional basket case.  It turns out that I'm rather clingy when highly stressed and my husband is very happy that the house we chose has a huge master bedroom where one of our first purchases (when we ever get money again, which might be years...) will be a king sized bed.  The poor man has patiently put up with me and my sleeping arrangements that include not one, but two body pillows.

Another time I'll tell you more about the house we're (hopefully) buying.  Today, I'm going to share with you the incredible oddness that is house hunting.  What an awkward experience.  We looked at new builds, occupied homes, short sales and foreclosures.  Those were sad and disgusting.  If you were kicked out of your house, would you LEAVE FULL LITTER BOXES in the closets?  I can't imagine loosing my home, but I'd hope I'd retain enough dignity not to leave a house with feces in it.  Do the banks not care that all these houses are essentially going to pot while they keep the prices ridiculously high?

I learned to expect the unexpected.  One time we went in and the owner (who was gone) left their dog running loose in the house.  Luckily it was the fattest, happiest golden retriever, but it was highly excitable and jumped up all over me.  Like paws up on your chest jumping up on you.  I love dogs so I dealt with it, but why, sellers, WHY would you leave your jumping-up dog in your house?  He was obviously worthless as a guard dog since he only wanted you to play ball with him, so home security wasn't the issue.

The best though was the bachelor's pad.  I didn't know it was a bachelors pad when we decided to look at it.  The man had obviously spent a TON of money putting the very best of everything into his home and it was beautiful.  Too bad the layout of the home was the worst I've ever seen.  The living room and dining room were tiny, not room for a big table or more than one couch.  The master bedroom had a tiny closet that looked like it belonged in a hallway, not a master bedroom.  It was this point that drilled home to me (even more than the empty, poorly-designed pantry with shelving so flimsy I wouldn't trust it to hold more than three cans) that the man was a bachelor.  No woman in her right mind would have let a brand new home be built with such a tiny closet that wouldn't of held half of my clothes and I am NOT a clothes horse.  Plus the doors to the bedroom were clear glass.  I couldn't get the image out of my head of little noses pressed against the glass, peeking in.  But the pièce de résistance was the huge, life-sized poster of himself up on the landing.  And not just any poster of himself.  The man builds custom wheeled objects of transportation and it was a picture of him with said vehicle, but about a third of himself had been edited to fade into a burning skeleton.  I don't make this stuff up, house hunting is full of such delicious little looks into peoples' lives.

Mercifully the hunting process was short and the offer has been put in.  We hope to sign soon, but I have a feeling that my stress is far from over.  I keep thinking though that we're very close to having a home of our own for Christmas and after six and a half years, that fills me with joy.