excited: party of two

are you ever just so out of your goddamn mind excited that you can't even see straight?  like whatever you may be excited about is what consumes every thought you have when you're conscious?  and also your dreams (i assume i'm dreaming about this too but i never remember my dreams so i'm not sure).  and for the most part you're utterly useless to everyone because you have a one track mind about the excitement and do nothing else but obsess about it?
that's currently my situation.  like even more excited than getting engaged.  and even more excited than my own wedding and a two week vacation in mexico.  COMBINED.  like straight up lose your mind and melt your damn brain excited.
and no - i'm not pregnant. and it's bad enough that i was asked three times in the last seven days about whether i was pregnant.  i swear to everything that i will choke the next person that asks me that.  OR maybe i'll just tell them i'm barren.  that ought to to take care of things. and in a nice, awkward way.
but i digress.  back to the task at hand.  shitler and i moved in together the summer after we both graduated from college.  and it was grand.  we lived on a property that had three houses situated on it so we were renting a house on the lake for a fraction of the price.  in the summers we boozed on boats and piers down by the water and during the winters shitler ice fished his ass off. we got dogs on that property (even though we weren't supposed to), engaged on that property, and got into all sorts of other shenanigans on that property (see also: what shitler refers to as apartment-ruining fights that invovled a past roommate and their significant other).
check out how good we look; drinking by the basement wall circa 2008.

and even though we had tons of memories and an unimaginable amount of fun living there we both couldn't help getting slightly restless the older we got.  living on the lake is awesome.  living at the bottom of a treacherous hill come winter-time in wisconsin is not awesome.  my pregnant friends weren't allowed over nor were you allowed over if you had just had a child.  and it never failed that my overly active imagination thought about the worst possible thing happening.  i.e. a pregnant friend slipping and falling or a recently born baby tumbling down the stairs in its carrier and then me reacting to the insane fucking tragedy unfolding before me is not something i'm able to cope very well with.  i can't count the number of times i've slipped down that hill during the winter time (drunk OR sober thank you very much).  and no amount of salting the steps helped since the snow just melted during the day and quickly refroze into slick ice.  in all honesty - mountain climbing gear would have been incredibly helpful over the last eight years.  swearsies there was one winter where we just straight up slid down the hill on our asses till we hit the door.  

we affectionately referred to the spring time (or any other time it rained for that matter) as mud season.  the rain would run down the steps creating a torrential stream of water that would eventually collect in our basement and the dogs (obviously just mac because murphy is a fucking angel) so enjoyed prancing through all the mud and were then hesitant to comply with any and all methods of getting clean.  

and then there's just shitler.  and his restless wanting to do house projects.  for all those who don't know - shitler is quite the handy guy.  i think, technically, his job is a sub-contractor.  so he flips house, builds condos, remodels basements and bathrooms and then does most of those things for his friends and family (less flipping houses and building condos for friends and family and more so helping friends and family with house projects since home boy is not that generous).  shitler loves doing house projects for people; but one day he said to me "i'm sick of doing shit at everyone else's house. i want to do shit at my own house (i know - he's very eloquent)."  

so we took the terrifying next step.  and started looking at all the things house-buying entailed.  and it's insane stuff to go over.

like - you know you're broke.  but then you break it all down and you're all "i'm really broke.  how am i even making it?"  and then lenders don't want to lend to you.  and there's debt to income and there's needing to fix your credit and there's different kinds of loans and then there's money down and then you just want to throw yourself off a cliff.  because that's just the first step and you haven't even looked at a fucking house yet.  and for us - all that started in 2014.  and nothing actually came to fruition until just recently.  because first we had to rehab credit scores and attempt to pay off debt.  and even after all that it seemed like house buying was an insurmountable feat and maybe we just give the fuck up.

until 3 weeks ago - when shitler showed me a picture of a house and we decided to go look at it (we actually looked at two different houses and one just had a weird as fuck layout a twenty-five foot patch of grass the dogs would have to shit on).

and then we decided to put in an offer.  and then we had to wait an excruciating forty-eight hours to hear back.  and it was during those forty-eight hours that i realized how truly emotionally unstable i was (about everything in the world though - not just home buying).  but they countered and it was acceptable.  so we accepted it.  and then i had to sign papers.  and then we had to pay money (like thousands) and then the deed was done.  and come january - we move.

but right now - this is me and shitler.

let's circle back around to me being excited as fuck.  because i am.  and so is shitler.

because it will be ours.  and shitler can do house projects.

and shitler will also soon realize the true extent of my madness when i show him all the things on pinterest and go "MAKE IT HAPPEN, CLOWN.  and he'll be horrified that i pick backsplash colors that make me think of fairies sprinkling fairy dust through my kitchen and that i also want a full-blown wardrobe in the bedroom because NARNIA.

but he'll also tell me yes.  because he has to.  because i'll pull the marriage card and not even care and be all "but don't you want me to be happy?"  and then i'll also regret not putting house-related things in the marriage vows because he won't acquiese to my demands.

but in the meantime i have to pack.  and clean.  and obsess.  and stress myself out.

because obviously.

EVERYONE IS INVITED TO FIRST RAGING HOUSE PARTY.

byob though.  since soon we'll be supa, supa broke.

p.s. i also realize that the actual house buying (finding and buying) was relatively easy for us.  for all those that had to endure a probably more normal timeline of home buying - you are all angels and i don't know how you did it.