I am doing it. I am catapulting myself into adulthood, locking myself into a life of responsibility and stability. No I’m not getting married or having a child. I am buying a house, well half a house. I’m buying a condo in a duplex which is actually my half of the house attached to someone else’s half of the house literally split down the middle. It’s a start and about all I can manage anyway. It has three bedrooms although the third would have to be a bedroom for a miniature person so instead it will be an office. There’s also a basement big enough for Mr. No Game to play ping pong in and a yard large enough for a vegetable garden and a wiffle ball field. Perfect.
I always figured that I’d buy a place to live, somewhere that I could paint what ever color I wanted and could fix up as I pleased. I just never thought I would be buying something alone. I figured I’d get on the normal path, get married or at least intend to and go house shopping for that place or “ours” rather than “mine.” Apparently no one else thought this either. Because as I sat with the nice man at the bank alone, he kept telling me “you guys” are buying at the right time and “you guys” will be happy you bought even though all the paperwork I was filling out said just Julie. I didn’t want to rock the boat so I just nodded and figured he had some sort of mental problems. Then came the home inspection. I called an inspector, arranged to meet him and my real estate agent whom he knows and I paid him with a check with my name on it. I filled out the forms and signed my name on the paperwork he gave me yet he spent the whole time telling Mr. No Game, who came along for the ride, what he could easily fix. Just now my co-worker Lester reminded me I’m supposed “to get a husband, a dog and 2 and a half kids” before I buy a place. Funny.
So even though this might not be a fairly tale castle and there’s no prince living in the tower, if all goes well I’ll have my own place in a month or so. I wonder if this will make me a grownup by default…I hope not.