1. It’s Shark Week, you guys! I don’t celebrate Shark Week because I’m scared of sharks and I don’t like to think about them too much, but a wise man once said, “Live every week like it’s Shark Week,” and I really try to live by that code. So, even though I think sharks are the scariest thing this side of alien abduction, I’m going to take the shark by the horns, and I’m going to live my life to the fullest. You should too.
2. The Sabres signed some guy named Cory McCormick. “McCormick” makes me think of spices, so I’m anticipating a lot of spice-related nicknames for him next year. You can expect my game diaries to say things like, “Oooh Pumpkin Pie Spice just punched Avery right in the face. He’s a delightful blend of sweet and spicy today,” or, “Dude. McCormick is such a disgusting pile of dill weed. I miss Andrew Peters.”
3. You may recall about a year and a half ago when I trumpeted the exciting news that, “I’M HOUSE HUNTING!” You may also recall that I never mentioned it again. This is because I took my sweet, sweet time with my house hunt.
Fast forward many months, and I’m now in the beginning stages of buying a house. I put my offer in, it was accepted, and now we’re in the hideous phase of trying to iron out all the details. I still have a looooong way to go before closing, so I’m trying not to get too invested, but after a really rocky start there seems to be some progress in the negotiations. So…yay.
I’ve never owned a house before, and I’ve never been very house oriented, so this is all new and terrifying territory. My anxiety over buying a house seems to be manifesting itself in the form of late-night fretting. I lay awake every night, mentally listing the MILLIONS (trillions?) of projects this house contains (it’s a fixer-upper), and the BAZILLIONS of dollars worth of items I will be required to purchase.
My worrying habits are not very rational. I mean, I’ve spent almost zero time worrying about interest rates or monthly payments. No, I choose to dwell on the truly inconsequential. Two nights ago I lost many hours of sleep because I had this running commentary going on in my head:
“Ugh. I have to buy so many things. I wonder how much a lawn mower costs. Should I even kid myself by pretending I’m willing to use a push mower, or should I just go directly for the electric mower? Shit. I don’t have a ladder. What kind of 34-year-old person doesn’t own a ladder. I can’t do this. I can’t buy a house. WHAT WAS I THINKING? FUCK. I wonder if it’s too late to get out of this. How much does a ladder cost? A hundred bucks? TWO hundred bucks? OMG, WHAT IF I CAN’T AFFORD A LADDER. This is terrible. Kate, you’ve REALLY DONE IT THIS TIME. BUYING A HOUSE WITHOUT A PLAN TO PURCHASE A LADDER IS BEYOND IRRESPONSIBLE. I CAN’T BELIEVE I TRICKED A BANK INTO GIVING ME THIS LOAN. I’m only going to be able to paint the lower six feet of my walls. HOW WILL HALF-PAINTED WALLS EFFECT THE RESALE VALUE?! This is TERRIBLE.”
So, this afternoon I did something silly in an effort to feel a little less freaked out. I always resort to silliness when I’m feeling helpless. It’s my way of coping, and frankly, it serves me quite well.
Even though I’m at least six weeks away from closing, and there are still many many many details to be negotiated on the sale of the house, and I currently live in a house stocked with every imaginable home improvement tool under the sun…today, I bought a ladder.
I know. I’m, like, totally grown-up.
You can all sleep easy tonight. It’s going to be okay. I’m here to tell you that not only are ladders easily obtained, they are quite affordable. Mine was $40.