Sitting, Waiting, Wishing. Finally Moving Out of My Parent’s House.

Like most college graduates I moved home after graduation. Job prospects were slim and my parents weren’t willing to fund my post-graduate lifestyle in San Diego with my friends (not that I wanted them to. I never planned to stay there). So I packed my life into my Toyota Yaris, said my tearful goodbyes to my best friends and drove home.

I remember thinking that living at home was going to be a temporary thing. But a year and a half later, I still live at home. I don’t really mind living at home. My parents are really easy to live with and because I went to boarding school, I hadn’t actually lived at home since I was 15. I guess in a way I am making up for the years I was gone in high school by living at home now. [I just let myself think that.]

I didn’t get a full time, salaried job until about 8 months after I graduated. So for 8 months I was making a part-time salary and I HAD to live at home. There was no way I could afford rent, bills, health insurance, food, etc. on $900 a month. Then I got a full time job and my salary almost tripled. So I waited [a few] months to save up some money like any smart person would do.

That’s when the apartment hunt started. I found a roommate and we looked at what seemed like hundreds of apartments. The hunt lasted for three months before we found a place. We were looking for both rentals and places to buy. (I had saved up a good amount of money and my parents said they would help with the down payment.)

Then I found it. My townhouse. It was rundown, outdated, and needed a lot of work. But it was in a killer location, priced to sell and had so much potential. The one downfall- it was a short sale. Despite that, we put in an offer. It turns out that 21 other people also put in offers. 21 PEOPLE. How insane is that? After much deliberation and other decisions, we won.

I can’t even describe how I felt at that moment. Happy that we got the house. Excited to decorate and make it my own. Relief that we found something. Sacred of the responsibility. Nervous about being tied down to one area. Upset about all of the money spent.

Well that was two and a half months ago. Short sales are a bitch. Apparently the “average” short sale takes 3 months. If we are lucky we only have a half a month left of waiting to go. Fingers crossed.

But now I feel like I am living in a suspended state. Half of my stuff is packed in boxes in anticipation of the move. I have some paint colors and hardwood floor samples picked out but I can’t buy any yet. I have a whole list of things that need to get fixed before we move in but I can’t  plan until we hear back. I have so many craft projects I want to do but I don’t want to start because I have no place to put them. I feel as if I am not here nor there.

I’m ready to move. MORE than ready to move. Ready to start my adult life, live on my own, be financially independent, grow up (or something like it).

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Courtney says:

    Ugh the process of moving is one of the most stressful things ever. How exciting, though!! It must be fun to finally feel like you are going to have a place of your own. I hope it all works out!

    1. Thank you! It really is stressful. But so exciting at the same time!

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