Buy Two, Get One Free

It started off like any other week. Monday morning I was depressed about being in the office. By Tuesday I'd gotten into my groove. Wednesday I had to take Emma in for a teeth cleaning and extraction and I'd conned my real estate agent into coming down to look at a property with me that I wasn't really interested in.

In Real Estate, like in online dating, if there are no pictures, I won't even open the listing. It's not that I'm superficial, but if there aren't pictures, I feel like there's something that's being hidden. Like a lack of teeth. Or signs of a meth related explosion.

I want to make out with this kitchen.

Something about the property was different so I had my agent start stalking. It had been listed last year so one of the catch-all real estate sites still had the pictures. They were amazing. I couldn't imagine that the property had been totally trashed in the last 4 months so we set up a viewing.

I fell in love with it immediately. It is super classy and well decorated.

I made an offer. And I was oddly calm about it. Mostly, because I believed someone else would beat my offer immediately.

Except they didn't. And the Seller didn't decline. We've haggled on inclusions and exclusions and I may or may not have called the Seller a "lying douchbag" in my head... or outloud... but the offer hasn't been thrown in the trash.*

I got a text message from one of my best girls on Friday to tell me she is pregnant. She and her husband had struggled to conceive their first 2 beautiful children and had spent a lot of time, money, and heartache going through various fertility treatments. While they didn't expect that pregnancy was something they'd need to worry about, they were planning some permanent solutions.

An appointment was made to discuss options and then nausea set in. My friend was tired all the time and irritable... with that awkwardly heightened sense of smell. So that appointment had to be changed from a "let's talk about our long term family planning options" to "I guess I'm knocked up."

After calling my girlfriend to congratulate her, I IM'd her husband:

Me: Congrats!!!

Him: Thanks! Full House!

Me: [Your wife] offered me one since you'll have an extra.
I think I'm going to pick [the oldest] since he's not in diapers and he already loves me
I might change his name, though
Something from a Jane Austen novel like the cats
Maybe Mr Bingley 

Him: well, I don't think he'll go for that
He's pretty strong willed
You'll need to stock up on Legos

Me: I bet with enough candy and Iron Man toys I can get him to respond to Mr Bingley. 

I keep thinking that if they can add another human to their lives, I can buy a new townhome without freaking out. Because 3 kids is the equivalent of a new house, right?

Last night I dreamed that someone was trying to break in from my 5th floor balcony. I was a lady and she was wearing a white dress... sort of Amish-style... with a red long sleeve shirt underneath. When the burglar saw me she jumped from the balcony and floated down like Mary Poppins.

Not these guys. The ones wearing straight-jackets, but
I can't find a picture online.

I searched the balcony for another burglar and there was a dude that was a cross between the Hunchback of Notre Dame and the minions from the "Hush" episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I ran to the living room to call 911 and run out of my condo, but I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door and 911 wasn't answering.

I woke up and didn't go back to sleep.

Hour by hour I waffle between feeling very confident about my decision and fearing I'm making the dumbest decision of my life and will end up bankrupt and living in my parents' basement. It feels frivolous and unnecessary. I'm fine where I am.

And then I'm proud and excited. It's fiscally smart to diversify my financial portfolio with real estate, right? Also... that kitchen makes me want to be naked.

To my friends who are excited and terrified about their unplanned awesomeness I can say, "Everything will work out. It always does." I can make jokes about how this third child is like a they found a sale on children "Buy 2, Get 1 Free." In my own head I want to run. Run from adulthood and my job and my life and go hide in my closet. Or maybe in their closet. I bet there are a lot of legos in there to play with.
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* I still don't have a signed offer and it's a short sale so the Seller could agree to sell and the bank could tell me to fuck off. This is the real estate equivalent of telling people you're pregnant in the first trimester.**

** Also, don't tell my friends I told you about the pregnancy. Since it truly is a little early to be telling everyone.