Ahhhhhhhhhhh! We did it! I just scanned the million-page document in and formally submitted an offer for Dream House Numero Uno. They have until the close of business day tomorrow to respond; that feels like a year from now. I’m practically hyperventilating with anticipation over here.
You’d think the second time around it wouldn’t be nearly as exciting and nerve-wracking, but I’m barely able to sit still. This could be our new home! This could be the place where a bassinet rocks my future child to sleep. Where little feet run rampant across wood floors, a stampede of innocence and chaos. This may even be the home where I welcome my grandchildren with open arms, my grown children amused that I still have their macaroni art framed on the walls. This could be my future.
I realize I’m probably building myself up too much – getting too hopeful – and I know I need to be realistic that this may not work out. The optimist in me refuses, though. She’s confident that the home, and it’s cute office with the perfect dimensions for my bookcases, is meant for her.
Now we’ll just wait and see who wins: the realist vs. the optimist.
I’m betting on the optimist.
~ Victoria Elizabeth Ann