Apparently one of my neighbors needed bleach for something in the laundry room and as best as I can tell, they spilled the entire bottle because my building and even my living room has smelled like bleach for three days now. (Not really helping with the migraine issue.)
This is just the latest addition to my list of reasons why I need to move: I’m sick of dealing with other people’s mess.
And I’m sick of dealing with other people’s noise. I like to listen to music when I write or read but I do it through headphones for better sound. I don’t have a lot of guests coming in and out and I don’t run a daycare, dice games, or a strip club out of my apartment so I’d say, in general, I’m pretty quiet. The unfortunate side effect of being quiet is how much you hear from other apartments.
The loud slut downstairs, the friendly –but loud- Rock Band fan across the hall, the college dude next door who parties more than he studies I’m sure; it’s all enough to make me want to scream. Except no one would hear me because of the noise! And did I mention one of the advertised features of my complex was the soundproof walls. Soundproof my butt! And speaking of sounds and butts, I think one of my neighbors might have irritable bowel syndrome. Yes, I can hear all of that.
And if the tri-parker (as in the car with the right rear tire over the line on one side and left front tire over the line on the other side, effectively taking up three spaces) hits my car one more time with their car door, I might just accidentally have to bump their car back. The tri-parker has a nice, newer car, too. My car is old and paid for. I’ve got nothing to lose. Bring it.
The problem is I didn’t plan on moving again unless it was to realize my dream of homeownership. The other problem is that it sometimes seems that the more I look into this, the further away the dream seems to be floating.
It turns out a lot of the items on my dream home checklist are actually limitations. I’ve set a price limit that I refuse to exceed. Location is critical. And I prefer a condo over a “single family dwelling” for exterior upkeep and maintenance reasons.
Is this the end of the dream? Or a slight shift to a new one?
I happened to catch an episode of “My First Place” on HGTV called “Lessons Learned” where buyers from previous shows shared what they learned from the experience. I’m glad I caught this because it helped to put things in perspective for me and made me think about things I really did not consider before.
And it made me realize that it’s okay if I decide to make small steps towards what is ultimately a fairly lofty goal. Perhaps if more people had taken the extra thought and time, the foreclosure rate wouldn’t be so high. (although we all know there are a whole lot of other factors in the rise in foreclosures but that’s another post for another day). Fortunately, they extended the program allowing me a bit more time to find my dream house, but I still intend to pace myself and find just what I want. I’m okay with missing the housing tax credit deadline , rather than jump into a money pit trying not to miss it.
Now quiet as it’s kept, (and silly as it may sound) another big motivator for me wanting a home was me wanting a dog, or two. Okay four. Big dogs. Big scary dogs with sharp teeth and fierce loyalty.
My sister wondered how dogs would fit in with my plans to travel and it occurred to me that quite frankly, they don’t fit. If I plan to become a citizen of the world, (and I do!) and take some work that involves extensive and extended travel, dogs might not be a very good idea at all. Not to mention the expense of pets. And a moment of silence for all the subdivisions I passed on because they didn’t’ even allow dogs!
So at the risk of becoming a single ladies stereotype, I might just head on over to the Humane Society for Free Kitty Friday if I feel so inclined to have a pet. And I still have the Aquarium TV my mom bought for me a couple years ago. It came with four fish and it has a soothing blue glow to it. Plus, I don’t have to buy food or kitty litter to take care of these lovelies, just some distilled water at 99 cents per gallon. And they won’t care if I’m off on assignment in some sunny region of the world. I don’t have to walk them, only unplug them.
Still, I find myself debating back and forth in my mind, which of my two great dreams means more to me: a writing career stationed in a lovely home, or a writing career that takes me around the world seeing lovely new places and meeting lovely new people. And why do I think I have to choose?
Is the lesson here for me to learn how to do the best I can with whatever I have, no matter where I’m living? Am I not thinking big enough? Too big? Am I thinking too much?
Maybe not being able to find my dream home is just a sign that this isn’t the time or place for me to plan the kind of roots that buying a home would plant. It’s hard to fly with roots, and above everything else, my greatest dream of all is to have wings.
How important is your dream to you?
Song stuck in my head right now: