Neuroses explained

Here are some good things about today:

1. It's Friday. Fridays are, by definition, extra fabulous.

2. Red Mill Burger for lunch.

3. I have a new database to play with, meaning my crap work gets shoved to Monday. And, let's face it, Mondays are for crap work anyway. Fridays are for jeans, hair that isn't blow dried, and catching up on blogs. Ok, right, I do that last part every day.

Last night Phillip and I wolfed down dinner and skipped out to look at Our New House while there was still daylight. They'd hung the cabinets and drawers- that was the only difference from our last clandestine visit. The walls and floors are still papered and plasticked over to protect them from the paint. The carpet isn't down, the toilets and sinks are lying on their sides and the walls still have holes with wire innards seeping out. The kitchen cabinets- white, not green- are missing their knobs and handles. The front units will be finished first- ours is in the back- and the builders are having an open house this Sunday. I plan to show up with my husband and my sister and my personal interior decorator (and not all together, of course!) to sneak a look at the finished (nearly) product. By Sunday the countertops should be in, the carpet should be down and the tile laid in the bathrooms. It's occurred to us that we bought our house somewhat sight unseen, but we barely noticed it while it was happening. After seeing practically every townhouse in the city, they all start to look alike. You can count on a few things, although I'm glad we caught the green cabinets issue...

But now that I have a house- a brand new house- I'm starting to feel a little terror. What I'm about to write will have the entire Internet nodding their heads, finally understanding the root cause of my sleeping issues, but ohmygodIonlyhaveonechancetomakeeverythingabsolutelyperfect!!! Because, it's not like, if I decide the color I painted the living room isn't really working for me, I can just do it over. That's a lot of work, not to mention potentially provoking homicidal thoughts in my husband. What if I save up for my oft-dreamed-of red couches, then I order them and they show up and they look hideous? The first time I hang a picture I better like it, because there's no way I'm treating the brand new walls that I own the way I treat my apartment walls. (Hello Apartment Walls! With your many punctures and scrapes and broken screws lodged in the drywall!) I don't even think I can BE in the house when we move furniture upstairs because of the high risk of Wall Defacement. What were we THINKING buying something brand new? This is why I've always thought that I would never buy a brand new car.

Phillip thought I was kidding last night when I asked a friend if I could borrow her collection of Pottery Barn design books, but I am utterly terrified of ruining my pretty new house with some godawful color scheme or a poor choice of wall art that I can't take down because I can't put more holes in the wall. And YES, I KNOW I am being RIDICULOUS. No one says neuroses make SENSE.

Also, I should probably wait on this whole next phase of Freaking until we actually get the keys. We've signed the papers, we "control" the property and financing is secured. But there's not really a lot to do until we get the keys. I figure I may as well start the Freaking. I never said I was a procrastinator.

The thing is, the house is already imperfect. Last night as we were admiring our shiny white cabinets, Phillip asked, "Are they dry?" and I said yes, because when I ran my finger over the counter (underneath where the countertop will go, mind you) it WAS dry. And then he stuck his finger on a cabinet door and made a little fingerprint in the not-quite-dry-yet paint. It's tiny. No one will ever notice it, but it's there and we know it. There was no screaming or gnashing of teeth, though. We just kind of stared at it and thought: "Well, I guess it's really ours.