Some days

Some days it's good to take a break from housing. To sit back and relax, and reflect on the fact that you are happy to not only be alive but to not be examining square footage, washer dryer combos, and insect carcasses. Thus, we started our break from the house hunt by going out with a real estate agent to look at houses again today. I've got a fever and the only thing that will cure it is more houses! That saying is pretty popular where I'm from.

We looked at a couple of condos. The great thing about condos is they are all entirely updated, with nice appliances and flooring et al. The other nice thing about condos is that they are all too small. I read books. I collect books. I need a place to put my books. Condos don't have room for books. More specifically, they don't have room for my books.
"You know what this condo could use? Built in book shelves. Oh yeah, I think we could just take down this wall here and turn this living area into one big library. What would that do for the resale? So libraries aren't as in as they used to be huh?"
One of the condos we visited was jammed packed with CD's, which made the unit feel smaller. And here are all these crappy CD's, and I'm thinking about leaving a note that describes in detail just what an iPod can actually do for you as a music collector, but I figured the tenant would enjoy it more when he figures it out for himself he's going to be blown away.

The carpet was stained in several places, and I just assumed that the tenant had been staining some wood in the living room or spilling random bottles of soda on the floor for the past three years. "What, oh, I think I must have missed a spot. That carpet could really use a Mr. Pib stain." (Pours drink out). The condos also had a nice view of a parking structure, which would never get old. I've always imagined waking up in the morning and looking out my great big window into a large parking garage. I suppose it might curb nude walkabouts, but I'm not even sure that's a good thing.

Then we looked at a nice town house. The sun was shining, all the birds and the bees were twittering or pollinating, or flinging themselves blissfully against the window, or alighting on our fingers. The house was full of light, and also furniture, and one strange guy who seemed to think that he owned the place. It was the sort of place, just outside D.C. where you could picture yourself raising a happy and healthy family, and living around a bunch of people who reciprocated all of your values, and really enjoyed the short walk to the Metro. And didn't mind watching the house while you were away, or giving you some advice on kids and generally just being the sort of good folks that you always imagine that you are. It was a place where you could gather round, hold hands, and sing la la la la la la la la la la la... and everyone would be blue and male except for one girl with blond hair. Sorry, I briefly confused these townhouses with the Smurfs. As long as we don't get a place next to Gargamel we should be in pretty solid shape.

"You'll worry less about what people think about you when you realize how seldom they do."

* Infinite Jest