We are on the move, looking for our first home. Well, first purchased home. We started looking about three weeks ago, and last week we came across the perfect house. We waited a week before we went to see it, and when we finally did I fell in love. It was in our budget, great location, and my ideal style…could this really be true?? Scofield told me not to get my heart attached…but it was too late. I was already planning and decorating in my head. So we put in our offer, only to find out there had been multiple offers. On saturday, when we were suppose to hear back, I was in Atlanta for the brand market workshop. I told Scofield not to call me with any news, because if we didn’t get the houseIi didn’t want it to distract me or put a damper on my day, and…
…We didn’t get the house. So I cried. Like a big, fat baby.
About halfway home from Atlanta I stopped to get starbucks…partly because I was exhausted, and partly to self-soothe. Coffee in hand, I got back on the interstate, heading home. About an hour later I started to see signs for the Atlanta express lanes. I thought to myself, “Atlanta express lanes in South Carolina? That’s weird….” And then I realized, I had gone the wrong way on the interstate and was back in Atlanta! Cue breakdown number two. A two hour drive turned into a four hour drive. And yes, I blame this all on house hunting.
I’ve decided house hunting is like a girl getting her heart broken by a boy for the very first time. It hurts like the dickens…you think he was the one… the best thing you would ever have. But then that other boy comes along and you think, “Wow, I didn’t know it could be this great.” And you marry him and live happily ever after. So, I’m trusting an even better house is out there.
I’m waiting on my husband house.