I bought a house today. It's the Ivy Street place. I really do love it and I don't think that in 10 years time I will regret the purchase. But I am scared to death right now. It's not about the responsibility or commitment-it's all about money. I need to find a way to make more of it. I have already decided that I need to make some lifestyle choices: no more lunches or coffee out (150/month in August), cut Blockbuster.com (22/month), transfer to my parent's family cell plan (22/month), change TV provider (22/month), reevaluate car insurance (40/month), stop investing for the time being (45/month). Those small changes will actually make up the difference in my rent and mortgage including insurance, taxes and PMI.
That PMI sure does suck. Too bad I don't have the savings to buy with 20% down. Such is life.
I love and appreciate my mom so much. She has been open with her purse strings in a way that I never imagined. She received an inheritance when my grandmother died. She has held this money close to her, spending it on no one, frittering it away in the same manner that her own mother did. Now she has offered as much as I need-without clarification. And wants to give it to me, not loan it. I will consider this a loan-even if I am 90 when it is repaid.
I have decided to track my emotions through this process. Today I am curiously numb. A little apprehensive. A little excited. Pretty much ok.
I know that my real estate agent was disappointed that I was not more emotional today when I signed papers. I think that since I was so tearful the first time, that she expected some overt enthuaism today. I'm just not feeling it. I'm excited. But sure in my choice. I am not a screamer. I would never make it on stage of the Price is Right or Extreme Home Makeover. I don't scream OH MY GOD with seven exclamation points behind the words. It's just not me, not my MO. Rookie realtor will just have to deal.
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