Project Townhouse Two: The Freaking

Last night over a Starbucks vanilla latte/oatmeal cookie dinner, Phillip and I signed nine dozen documents instructing banks, brokers, lenders and agents to systematically suck out our savings with a little black coffee straw. It was more than a little nervewracking for me and every ten minutes or so I had to snap myself out of one of several recurring reveries:

1. The Cute Asian Couple Interviewing Their Potential Wedding Photographer. This group sat right across from me, thumbing through the Cute Asian Photographer's collection of photo albums, examining the price sheet and asking questions from a little list. I watched the girl whip out her credit card, I watched the guy write down notes, I watched the photographer carefully wrap his albums in velvety bags- all while my husband and my real estate agent were discussing closing dates.

2. The Eclectic Group of Conversation Partners. Why did I think I could understand snippets of Russian? Because I swear Russian is easier to figure out than how much rent to charge until the sellers move out in June.

3. The Sorority Girls Discussing Whether Or Not You Can Handle Dating Two Boys At Once. Because when you are trying to decide to put down 10 or 20 percent, even sorority girls can be captivating. (Dear Sorority Girls: JUST KIDDING.)

So, Internet, how irresponsible is that? Also lazy and inconsiderate, seeing as how Phillip had to do all the financial heavy lifting. Although I am pretty good at the Freaking Out- someone's gotta do it- and the Freaking Out is in full swing as we are NOT the only offer on the table and we won't find out until TOMORROW if they even are CONSIDERING us. I have just finished an exhaustive real estate search of the Greater Seattle Area and concluded that there is NOTHING ELSE AVAILABLE. Do you hear that Townhouse Owners?  I don't want to be demanding or anything, but I have already repainted your scary red hallway and redecorated your living room in my house-obsessed brain. Please take pity on me.

Gah. And I can't even imagine what it will be like when our offer is rejected and we have to go through this AGAIN.

On a much more spectacular and joyous note, my nephew was born early this morning finalizing the Full Fledged Grown Up process my little brother began last summer when he graduated college, married his high school sweetheart and morphed into Lieutenant Pincus. The baby arrived a bit early, but maybe that was just because he wanted to catch the Huskies vs. Louisville game at 4pm Pacific, in which case he is definitely his father's son. It's the Sweet Sixteen, people!

So tonight, instead of huddling over paperwork with our agent or perusing the townhome listings for the millionth time, I'll be heading down to Pottery Barn Kids to engage in some expensive retail therapy. As the oldest of six aunts vying for the Cool Aunt title, I've got a disadvantage. I am, however, the only aunt with a full time job. Do you know what this means, Baby Pincus? LOTSA PRESENTS!