Quest For A House Part 5: Or When Enough Is Enough

.. so it's no secret that finding a house to move to have been a hell of a whole lot harder then I thought it was going to be.

WAY harder.

And with time ticking away, I've developed every kind of intestinal problem known to medical science and some that I'm sure isn't.

It sucks.
The other morning, after a particularly bad night of tossing.. turning.. and hitting the bathroom, Tim wakes me up at an ungodly hour with the laptop screen in my face screaming YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!!

Before I was even mentally awake.. had my glasses on.. OR had a drip of coffee in me, he starts showing me this mobile home and his brilliant idea of buying a mobile home instead of renting a house and then we can get a lot and park it there and then have chickens and pigs and grown corn.. because, you know, corn is going to be worth more then gold.

Now, don't get me wrong. I've been in mobile homes before.. ones that were nicer then any place I ever lived before (except my house in Penrose Park which I loved so much it kept me in a bad marriage for 18 years) .. we just don't have the money for one of the "nice" ones.

Not to say that the ones he was showing me wasn't nice. There were. If you were HIM. He who could care less about anything materialistic or if there are curtains on the window or if the blinds are straight or if his furniture matches.

Please let's not get into that! HUGE can of worms there with no fishing pole.

Point is that he doesn't care where he lays his head. I do. It's not that I'M materialistic or have high standards *cough* or anything like that... I just want to be comfortable where I live.. want it to be presentable and clean.. and would rather not have to worry about falling through the floor.

It's a ME thing.

Plus, you know, I don't think I'm ready to knock out some teeth and start chewing tobacco to fit in to my surroundings.I mean, really .. my stilettos and concrete steps just don't seem to mix.

Then there are the kids to consider. If it was just the two of us then believe me, I would be a lot less selective but it isn't..

We found out that we have to give 60 days notice to our current landlord so we're going to have to pay another month's rent here which means we have to stay until the end of January.

We're at the point where we have to take a leap of faith. If we officially give notice, will we find something in time? Will we have to ship the kids off to their mother's and live in a tent somewhere? How the HELL did I find myself in this situation?

If you thought sleepless nights were bad before, well.. we're talking NO sleep AT all now.

The big difference between Tim and me is that I'm a planner and he flies by the seat of his pants. I like having a plan.. know what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. The ducks need to be in a row. Needless to say this situation is putting holes in my stomach.

But then yesterday we got an email that took a lot of pressure and stress off. I'm not going to go into detail but let's just say that regardless of what happens, we have a plan and a place.

When I woke up this morning, Tim was like, "... wow,  you look happy and well rested".

And I was like, ".. because we have a plan and a place, douchebag!"

'Cause that's really all it takes to give me a good nights sleep ... a plan and a place.