Mar 112013

I’m buying a house. It is a three bedroom, two bathroom, five anxiety attacks property. It is a split level with a kitchen as big as my current apartment. There is a garage which I am inherently supicious of and a back yard that I am sure harbors some evil trees.

We get the house on April 3rd but in the mean time, we have a shit ton of work to do.  I had no idea that buying a house involves so much work.  The bank wants paperwork. The seller needs paperwork. The realtor needs paperwork. Insurance companies, utilities and contractors need to be called. There is a period called ‘Due Diligence’ which means you bring in outside experts to kick and peer at your beloved house and try to find something wrong with it.  Plumbers express disbelief at the pipe system. Carpenters go mad at the sight of the support beams of the deck. Contractors weep terrified tears at the sight of the counters. It is all very much the opposite of relaxing.

The most amazing thing to me is that my writing has dried up. Paperwork, making appointments, providing therapy to my wife while having my own anxiety is exhausting.  I shit you not, I got more writing done when I had cancer.

While I am here, I would like to record for posterity my two favorite incidents while searching for a house to buy.

One of the houses was okay but the neighbor was a bit worrisome.  Every window int he neighbor’s house had a very obvious camera pointing outwards. The windows had blinds pulled down and conveyed that sort of bunker state of mind. I desperately wanted to go over there and introduce myself and maybe drop some hints that I worked for the government.

Another house I went to looked like the aftermath of a mysterious horror movie. The refrigerator was empty except for two large jars of olives. A lone toothbrush lurked in the hallway. A pair of perfectly good sandals stood in the middle of a room. Another pair of perfectly good sandals were by the back door, but the sandals were not tucked away neatly. No, they were spaced apart as if the person wearing them had instantly vanished in mid walk.

Luckily, the house we ended up making an offer on was free of mystery.  Well, not entirely.  See, the backyard has five trees.  These five trees are not spread out. No, they are in a tight circle. A normal buy would guess that they are just trees but come on, I think we all recognize a Druid gate when we see one.