So, you want to know a really exceptional way to tire yourself right out? Buy a house. Holy god, friends. I am WIPED. We closed on Friday (a torturous, drawn-out affair involving misstated easements from the 60s, fights about tax escrows, and a lawyer dressed as Stevie Nicks) and ever since then it’s been a long slog of trips back and forth, bringing over breakable stuff that we don’t want the movers to carry, planning paint colors (soft sage is our winner!) and plotting home improvements.
It’s that last part that’s killing me slowly. I am married to the world’s biggest planner. This is often a really good thing- on vacations, for example, I know that in The Dossier he brings with us will be a copy of every reservation, every confirmation email, every flight number, and every emergency phone number- it’s great. When it comes to the house, though, I’m growing a little weary.
“What color tile do you think we should use to redo the first floor bathroom?”
“What? When we do what?”
“When we redo the first floor bathroom! What color tile do you want?”
“When exactly are we redoing the first floor bathroom?”
“You know, 3 or 4 years from now, when we’ve saved up some money.”
*headdesk*
The movers aren’t actually coming for a few more weeks, so the next several weeks are going to be a rich stew of packing, living amongst chaos, and trying to convince Mr. Plansahead that maybe, just maybe, we can hold off on choosing what kind of bushes we want to plant in our eventual one-day dream garden makeover. End of September. That’s the goal. I just have to make it to the end of September. Then things will calm down. Wish me luck.
Do you know yet where you’ll string up holiday lights? Will there be drawn schematics to get maximum coverage?
I am the planner in the family but, have ceded some of my type A’ness about it. Well until our honeymoon when my huband forgot to look at the departure time and insisted we left at the arrival time. Yea that was fun, we made it to O’Horror within the slated two hour check in to Paris but without half of my husband’s clothes, the one he threw in the dryer before I doubled checked his iternary.
So I can relate to your husband!
hahahaaaa oh man. 3! years! HAHAHA. i am so very NOT a planner. i don’t know if that would make me laugh hysterically or pat him on the head like the cute little insane planner he is.
But! You’re depriving him of the joy of many years spent considering tile selection and sun vs. shade for bushes! You are a cruel woman.
I’ve lived in my place for a year and a half and I don’t even have pictures hung on the wall. I haven’t even thought about paint! I don’t even have a kitchen table!
That would kill him dead.
Are we married to the same man? My husband is a HUGE planner (partially due to his project manager title at work). We had a questionnaire that we made potential wedding sites fill out. We had an action item list for every.single.to.do item before our wedding and honeymoon. We had a calendar that planned out our move. When to cancel services. When to start services. When to move the big furniture. Etc. He is already talking about the renovation of the sun room.
*sigh* It makes my head hurt.
Good luck with your husband!
Congrats on the new house!
I’m a planner but wow. Even *I* think that’s a bit scary. LOL
I love John. That is all.
Congrats!
With my first house we had to wait 1 month to move in. During that time I plotted out the floorplan of the house on graph paper, measured all my furniture, cut out construction paper replicas of said furniture, and arranged furniture in the floorplan. Anything that took up more than 1 square foot of space was accounted for, and I spent many an hour arranging and re-arranging furniture (all without having to actually lift anything).
My name is Jill, and I’m an OCD planner.
Well done ariltce that. I’ll make sure to use it wisely.