Well, the furniture arrived at the house today which makes us one step closer to living in this new place that I still have not seen.
This whole day has been a little unsettling for me. I can't think of a time when my husband and my stuff have arrived at a place before I did, and I'm not entirely sure I love this. We were stuck here in the torrential Dallas spring rain while Craig directed movers into and out of the house all day. I got a virtual tour tonight, and it looks pretty, but it's so hard to really see what and where anything actually is with boxes covering every square inch of every room. I feel really detached from it all. Craig is pretty excited about the whole thing, though, so I'm choosing to exercise some trust that he's picked a house that I will love as much as he currently does. I'm sure I will once I get there.
Except sometimes in the chaos of these super busy days, and the haste of our mostly-texting conversations, it's so easy to get frustrated with him. Sometimes Craig leaves out the details I need and leaves in the ones I don't. Like, the carpet in the house smells like dog. I didn't realize they had a dog. We're all allergic to dogs. I don't particularly want all my stuff smelling like someone else's dog or covered in dog hair before we even get there. So Craig called Chem Dry. They're coming tomorrow to clean the carpets.
And the house isn't clean. That's a little disappointing. Like, you can't see out the windows because they're so dirty. Hmmm... Like, the bathrooms and showers are not clean. Gross. And he said he had to buy a new vacuum cleaner because the entire place is covered in dust bunnies. Great.
And the previous owner apparently has this weird attachment to his old home/lake/subdivision and has decided to make himself chummy with Craig, so they have a texting relationship now and the guy has come over at least three times since Craig got there yesterday morning, to do one more thing...and one more thing... Great. That will be awesome to have a complete stranger show up someday when Craig is out of town because he forgot a lightbulb in the basement and needs to get it.
The previous owner's giant pool table is also currently still in our basement because it's 40 years old, and cannot be disassembled...or something, and requires a professional mover which would cost $400 and he's pretty sure he can get it out without paying that much...which means either he will be coming back to visit...again...or we will be inheriting a pool table. Neither of those things is particularly appealing to me. That room in the basement is supposed to be a guest room so my mom can come and visit from Hawaii and stay as long as she wants. It's supposed to be where Savannah lives when she comes home from her mission and when she has breaks from BYU. The pool table is in my way. And that guy is freaking me out a little.
But, the house is beautiful.
The dining room table fits, even with all the leaves in it and 8 or 10 chairs around it. So that's good.
The furniture looks good in the living room.
I love all the wood and the light fixtures and the giant pantry I have in the kitchen that is ten times bigger than any I've ever had before. I love all the windows that let light in from every side of the house at all times of the day.
But it doesn't feel like it's mine yet. Nothing really does. It's hard to muster up excitement about a place I've never even been to that I know nothing about. I can't picture anything about this upcoming experience. I can't imagine driving into the driveway or going to church for the first time on Sunday. I have no idea who I'm going to talk to or what kind of first impression I'm going to make. It's a good thing they're not meeting me this week because I'm not very delightful.
The only thing I know for sure is that it must be better than this hotel experience and the rainy, miserable days we've had in Allen for the past two weeks. Right?