My new career is really eating into my blogging-at-work time. I'll have to bring that up at the next staff meeting. I have things to say, cute stories to tell, gripes to vent, but I have no time at a computer to bang them out. If there were some sort of technology available that would type up a post AS I WAS THINKING IT, I'd be golden.
So here I am typing furiously when I should be packing up the family to drive to Omaha tonight. In a minute, in a minute! Yesterday, I found out about a house for sale the next street up from us. It was the right size, the right location, and saints be praised, the right price. Yeah, that lasted about 5 minutes before it had three offers and was ultimately sold in a day. We never had a chance. Apparently, a sincere homebuyer should have something called "pre-approval" for a mort-gauge, more-gorge, something like that. We have no such thing or any idea how to get one. Obviously.
We're stubbornly committed to living in this neighborhood, arguably the most desirable area in town. I don't know who would argue about it. I know I wouldn't. At first I was crushed because we've been waiting (and may yet wait) years for an opportunity like this. But to look on the bright side, I learned a lot from the experience, like the need to be prepared to pounce. When a chance like this comes again, I don't want to lose out because I didn't do some groundwork.
There is nothing stopping me except ignorance, so I am trying to remedy that. So far I've figured out that I need this pre-approvity for a home lawn thing. I am told it's important. Next I need a Real-tar. Fake tar is not as good, I'm guessing. I should have this all figured out very quickly.
And that stupid house up the block that sold before I could dial the phone? It is steps away from our local city green space, our lovely green hill where the boys spend untold hours running, playing, hunting Easter eggs, sledding, and flying kites. Not that I care. Who wants to live that close to a park, anyway? The sound of children's laughter is SO annoying.