Already tired of waiting

the rutabaga got tired waiting for us to eat him, and decided to start a new life of his own.  we ate him anyway.

Sometimes we drive through little old neighborhoods on our way to somewhere, and this feeling starts to creep in until it has invaded every aspect of my conciousness: I MUST own a home.

I imagine my experience is similar to that of someone consumed by baby mania, a combination of hope, fear, and feelings of complete inadequacy.

I am a project-oriented person, its what gets me through the patches in my life. In London I realized one of my big dissatisfactions with the day to day was the lack of having a project to work on, because it wasn't practical.

In our tiny apartment, I look around and know that I have run out of spaces to put things, and that I have run out of patience with the things not to my satisfaction. I want more than 1 room to exist in, so that if someone plays loud annoying video games, I don't have to walk around my own living room in headphones. I can't wait until the day that when something goes wrong, I don't think to myself, "well that is going to come out of the deposit." I want to be able to redo a bathroom, paint walls a colour other than white, buy real furniture, and to not have the weight of moving in another 9 months pressing down.

But there is no avoiding the fact that we are pretty broke, and it doesn't really matter how much I want this. In this area, it will be a hell of a long time before we have enough for a down payment with a sensible mortgage.

But I would really like my own space please.

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