2 more sleeps until I am a home owner!

And could things be going less smoothly? NO!

I don't know what happened. I forgot one thing: how long it takes for investments to become liquid and transfer into my regular bank account.

It all came upon me so fast.

I've spent the last couple of days working on financials and lawyers and all sorts of house crap. Tonight I desperately called out to a few friends, just to have someone to talk me down. And they did.

Don't worry, if I didn't call you, it's not that I don't like you. I just didn't make it that far in my contact list. If your name is high up in the alphabet, its likely I called you.

And you know what? I love my friends. They are good people. They are smart and they know me and they know what I need to hear.

Seriously, even those of you who didn't talk me down tonight - I thought about all of you as I was walking home. I thought about how much better I feel knowing that all of you are out there. That I have people that I can call when my partner is also a little overwhelmed and not up to the task of soothing my panic-stricken state.

It happens every time I move, I suppose. The panic, I mean. Only this time, it's MY HOUSE, for goddessakes. And a crap-load of money. Amd the prospect of owning with another human being. Trusting them with my life. The stakes are higher. The payoff higher, sure, but the consequences too.

It's a big step, all of this.
It's turning my stomach inside out more than any roller coaster ever could.

But I took a big step: I started packing. I took home boxes and filled them with books from my shelves. I sorted - I took the ones I don't want to the used bookstore and sold some. The rest I will drop off at the library tomorrow so that thousands of people will share these words and love the library like I do.

Now, if you know me, you know I hate packing. I hate the mess, the disorder. I have problems just throwing stuff in a box. But I promised myself that I'd start earlier this time, and I am.

Baby steps.
I'm going to make it.