Holy sheep testicles have I been out of it for the last week or so. Master Wog and I have been oh so close to stabbing each other in the jugular with a dirty diabetes infected needle. Thankfully, we are better now. I am back to stabbing with a steak knife, a clean one.
We live in Savannah, in a wee bitty 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom house. Every time we have a storm come through, we take turns counting shingles in the backyard. We have a leak in the master bathroom ceiling and it is always my job to align the pot underneath it and pray that THIS TIME the roof won’t fall in. I think when they built the house back in the 40’s they used grass as insulation. We can never keep the house cold OR hot. NEVER. And it smells funny, that may be because of the 6 furred and 1 feathered animal we have, but who’s counting…We have been almost desperate to get the fuck out of this house for the last year. It seems once we fix one thing, something bigger and more expensive breaks. We spotted ninja mice in our attic, I think they are smart enough to know NOT to go into the house, they travel from the crawlspace underneath the house, to the tree right behind it and plop into the attic. (Fun Fact: Wog put some rat poison stuff up there to kill the little bastards a few months ago, when he went to go check it, both trays with poison in them were gone, they totally dee-boed our shit. Now I know that they are smart like that, I considered actually feeding them, I was all, but honey, they are cool! WTFever.)
Anywho, a few weeks ago we got an advertisement on the front door from one of those ‘We’ll Buy Your House’ companies. At first, I wanted nothing to do with it. Wog talked to them and he finally convinced me to meet with them. I did. Everything sounded great. It seemed this was exactly what we have been looking for. They would buy our POS house and in turn build us one. We would have enough equity in our house to pay off our debt. Basically a fresh start. Except that our monthly mortgage payment would double. Yeah, like, whoa.
So for the last 2 weeks Wog and I have been asking friends and family what we should do. Writing up budgets to see if we could afford it. As it turned out we could, sort of. He and I were almost ready to sign the papers…and I think mom must have come down and clocked me in the back of my head with her celestial cane because all of the sudden, I was like, wait a tic…I don’t fucking think so.
Why stretch ourselves, we are comfortable with our mini zoo in our wee bitty house. We are doing well financially, and are able to pay all of our bills and go out if we want. Our neighbors are…well, lets not get into that quite yet… We can deal with the neighbors. If we save up over the next 6 months or so, we can put a new roof on the house, fix the leak and put up a privacy fence in the backyard to contain the beasts. So, why leave now.
My main concern, as a woman, was kids. Yes we don’t even have any yet and the little bastards are making decisions already. I DO NOT want to raise a family in the neighborhood or house we are in now. I was thinking a new house, different county, better schools…but then Jess reminded me I have 3 years of birth control implanted between my bicep and tricep. AND that in 3 years, our car will be paid off. We would be in a much better place, financially, to start popping out little bearded wonders.
And that was it. Master Wog and I discussed and decided that it would, in fact, be better for us to wait. So we are. And after constantly worrying about the shit for the last 2 weeks, we are over it. Now we are able to focus on the problem at hand (the roof), start saving and in a few months throw a new one on.
I am 24 years old. I have been in a serious relationship for over 5 years. Had the same job for over 3 years. We bought our house when I was 21 and he was 22. How many people my age do I know who can say that…not many. We are doing damn good for ourselves. I am proud of the things that we have acquired over those last 5 years, included my mini zoo. We are happy. And as my good friend Magan told me, ‘bigger is not always better’. (When you are talking about houses, of course).
Now that that is out of the way, I’m pregnant! Kidding. No wee ones for us yet. But I did want to show your guys a cool ass picture I took the other night. This is our king size bed, on any given night, when we are watching TV. I would have it no other way.
This is 4 of the seven furred beasts, watching American Idol with me.