The call came yesterday evening, when I was sitting on the couch trying to block the sounds of the upstairs neighbor’s daily dance exercises out of my cranium. He or she was dancing to “Firework” on this fine evening, jumping up and down to the beat on top of my head.
Do you ever hate (jump) walls so paper thin (bump)
Like the ceiling’s bout (smash) to come caving in (crash)
Neighbor you’re a piece (thump thump) of work- (thump thump)
C’mon let your ear (tap tap) drums burst – (splat splat)
The cacophony was such that we almost missed my husband’s phone ringing.
We have been waiting on pins and needles to see whether or not our home loan would be approved- these days, even the most squeaky clean amongst us are are subjected to dissection, dismemberment, and CSI levels of antemortem scrutiny at the hands of a troop of pencil pushing lending assistants who hem and haw and question your integrity while you sweat under the lamps. We’re down to the wire, having been pushed to the limits of our deadlines by Thanksgiving and apathetic paper pushers.
We put an offer in on a house a couple of weeks ago. Strangely enough, it was in neither Ticky Tacky Town nor Crazy Town. It was somewhere in between, a place I have yet to really be able to describe. It’s suburban but quiet, with a yard for the dog and lots of trails nearby. The house just kind of showed up on Redfin one day, the previous buyer having fallen out of escrow. And there it landed in my inbox, the exact sort of place I had wanted. Did I mention quiet? We went and looked at it, I fell into a state of infatuation, and we decided to move forward.
The offer is the easy part, these days. The rest of it, the piles of papers and hoops to be jumped through, now that was the fun part. In the midst of all of this, tense and brittle, I of course started to panic. Remorse set in. Did we do the right thing? Is Apollo going to mark up the place? Will Koa even want to move back in with us after being spoiled at Grandma’s for two months? Should we have waited to try and find just the right casa by the beach after all?
Hoping to assuage my doubt, we ventured back over there last weekend to revisit the neighborhood, me hoping that something would jump out at me to underscore the fact that I had chosen the right place to relocate my family for the next two decades. After all of this drama and stress, I wanted to really be sure.
We wandered over to the shopping center, me eyeing the grocery store with interest. Is it a good grocery store? Does that pet store next to it carry Apollo’s special food? And as we drove by the pet store, me twiddling my thumbs waiting for something to jump out at me, something jumped out at me.
About 15 somethings, to be exact.
I rubbed my eyes. 15 Goldens in festive wear.
On the day I was trying to convince myself that this town was my kind of town, the local Golden Retriever rescue shows up at the local pet store to spread some holiday cheer.
So some of you know me better than others, but in terms of the universe trying to send me a sign that this is a place I’d be happy, a gaggle of Goldens in holiday regalia materializing in my moment of doubt is the Dr V equivalent of a deity in a grilled cheese. Signal duly noted, universe.
Maybe I should call our new digs Golden Town.
And the call, of course, was to update us that yes, we were pretty much approved, though of course there were just a few more people to review the documents and another 5,000 or so pages to sign. But so far, so good. Which pleases me to no end, as I’m quickly approaching the “bang a broomstick on the ceiling” phase in my upstairs neighbor relations.
OH wow. You really can’t get much more of an obvious sign than that, other than one actually written out, “Dr. V, this IS the place for YOU!”
Now, take a deeeeep breath. Let it out slowly. You WILL get through this, with writers cramp, and it will all be worth it.
Invest in some ear plugs for now.
Ear plugs. So elegant, and yet I never thought of it. Excellent idea.
Hurray for Golden Town! And if 15 Goldens in festive wear isn’t a sign, there ARE no signs!!! Hang in there, Doc, moving day is going to be a great day!!
Thank you Cathey! I can’t believe it’s actually going to happen! 😀
Wow Golden Town sounds awesome! Congrats on the new house prospect! I hope everything goes well and you move rather quickly. I don’t know about you, but apartment living would make me pace like a bored dog and I would have to get out right away.
I thought I could last 6 months, but 6 weeks and I’m DYING.
We bought out house a year ago and it to was so stressful waiting for an answer on our loan. The pain in my jaw was terrible from me gritting my teeth! I really believe in signs and I’d say you were hit over the head with a sign to say that you’ve made great decision! Now you just get to pack! Congratulations! Hugs, Meghan
Ugh, you get that jaw grinding too? I’ve been going nuts with the stress headaches.
Wow – best possible sign in the universe!
I know, right? Could it have been ANY clearer?
Golden Town sounds like a perfect name. When we were house hunting a neighboring golden got out, ran down to me and sat at my feet. Those are definite signs we are not meant to miss!
Aw, little guy wanted to make sure you knew it was the right place for you!
YAY for you guys and the dancing freaks upstairs will soon be an afterthought. Also I have to thank you for the review of the baby monitor. My Christmas present to me and the dogs was ordering mine today. I’ve always wanted something to be able to keep an eye on them with so many of mine getting way up there in age. Thank you!
Oh good! I hope it works out as well for you as it did for me- it’s amazing to get to see them in real time!
Golden Town sounds like your town to me ;o)
I know, right? That is pretty much perfection, so far as I’m concerned.
Yup, I’m not sure you could have received a better, more straight forward sign than that one.
I’m so dreading our buying process. We had a caravan of real estate agents come through today to confirm for us that we’re targeting the right asking price. I thought I was going to throw up – and this is the easy part.