Imagine this scene:
It's Sunday morning.
I couldn't sleep last night for various reasons: We are considering buying a house that we can afford, but barely, on one salary. I need to get a move on on my dissertation because it's not writing itself (unfortunately). Our decisions from here on out will have a profound impact on the future of Benny and any other children we have.
I had just run six miles with a friend of mine.
Benny is up, toodling around, smiling at my return.
...and we get a call. From our realtor. She says that the owner of the Bellaire house, the one we were cautiously excited about yesterday, has reacted positively to our offer.
Mixed emotions. First, I'm exhausted from a poor night of sleep AND running in the morning. Second, I start thinking about being house poor and it scares me pretty bad. What if I can't find a job in four months? What if, what if, what if.
Deep down I think this is fabulous news. Nate and I both fell in love with this house when we saw it. We can afford it and won't have to move any time soon. But, it's still scary.
So, in an hour, we're going to sign the counterproposal from the current owner. Then the house will be "under contract." Eek!
We may be buying a house after all.