Since I began college in 1999, I have lived in 10 different places. I have moved so often that I've developed this strange sense of place, where I don't view anything as my community or my town. Just somewhere I'm passing through. I've never invested myself emotionally in a location, never made friends with my neighbors in my adult life.
Last week, Corey and I made an offer on a house. They counter offered and we accepted. We are almost home owners. It's very strange and adult feeling. We're going with the house that has this potty:
That was the main selling feature for us (in addition to the spacious functional kitchen and well maintained structure of the house, ceiling fans, central air, and lovely back yard).
Now starts a very strange process in which we rush around to get everything inspected and pay people lots of money to process paperwork and give the city of Pittsburgh an obscene amount of money for reasons not entirely clear to me just for the transaction. I have clearly entered the wrong business. If I wanted a lucrative job, I should have gone into paperwork filing. I am actually quite good at paperwork filing. It's almost as fun as I imagine using that toilet would be.
In two months, barring disaster, our Steel City Experiment will no longer be an experiment. It will be our life. Our real, married, home owning life in which we have chosen a location to settle. I'm not scared about settling down with Core-man. I've always known he was my future. I feel a jittery sense of excitement at the notion of having a permanent place to hang my cleats. I will no longer be a nomad. It feels good.