"My" house is open to the public today from 1-3pm. It's the house I almost bought last week, the Victorian near downtown in the prime whirlingbetty location.
I certainly hope nobody has the audacity to buy my house. It's mine- I'm just not officially buying it until:
A) the price comes down by about 15%, or
B) I experience an unexpected windfall, rendering its current price no object, or
C) I just happen to decide that I'm going for broke, literally.
It has occurred to me that if I buy the house, a void will be created in my life. I will no longer be allowed to obsess incessantly about houses and neighborhoods and moving. Well, I guess I could still do it, but nobody will listen.
This has happened before. I did live in the dream neighborhood, in a dream Victorian, 5 years ago. I only lived there 14 months. I was quiet and satisfied for a while, and then the urge to search gradually took over. I spent hours on the internet looking for properties with lush backyards, in wooded settings. I almost bought one, in a location that I now realize I would have despised. Then finally I did buy one, and it's my current house, the one situated on the public rose garden.
What is this about? Why am I never satisfied, constantly searching for the ideal place to live? What deeper issue am I trying to resolve using houses?
And will Whirling Betty show up at her own open house today?