Saturday, October 14, 2006

The Dark Side

Sometimes it beckons. It waits until you're feeling weak and then makes it's case...

"Come on, you know you hate this house. All it ever does is Take Take Take. When is the last time you went to a movie? Remember manicures and buying shoes on a whim? Remember sleeping till 10:30am on Saturday mornings and then walking to the coffee shop up the street for a cappuccino...? Remember having time to kill?

Jocelyn You belong in a newly gutted condo. You could sell this place and pay cash for one of those. You wouldn't have to deal with tenants or maintenance...I know you really want this deep down- I can feel it. Jocelyn, the dark side is waiting for you. It's where you belong."

Me: "No, no no!!! Stop it- shut up. I love this MF house god dammit," gritting my teeth and grimacing with determination. It's true I don't love being a landlord, but this is a great investment and with a condo we wouldn't have a yard like ours or the original wood work and details. Our place says home more than any new condo could be for us. "

Dark side: "Remember what being well-rested felt like? Remember taking your dog to the lake every day for a walk? How about that social life, it's really hopping now isn't it?"

Me: "Dark side, that last part was really a low blow. I'm starting to think you are a real asshole. I'm going back to work now."

Footnote: Steve and I definitely need a break. We are almost at a spa weekend point (at least I am). This 2nd floor project has officially whooped my butt this year. Remember how I fell in love with the 2nd floor a while back? Well the romance has soured and left a bitter taste. I will be so relieved when we get tenants in there and we will not be able to work up there anymore!

5 comments:

StuccoHouse said...

I moved from a condo into my house, so I can help on this one ;-)

I moved from my condo (although it was 1928 and really cute) because EVERYTHING had to be decided by committee. Because the year I found a little spot out back to plant flowers, one of the nieghbor ladies dug them up and planted her own. Because the woman who lived next to me vacuumed at 3am every Mon. night. Because there was nothing to do except go get coffee and buy shoes I was bored. It's all perspective.

Your place is adorable and your blog is more entertaining because you have tenants.

Christina said...

We actually just had to go through the whole thought process of a possible move because of a potential new job, and the house ended up winning (among other things). The reason why our house has taken such a long time (in my eyes) to finish is because of the "lull." We go through little spurts then we rejoin the rest of our lives, and then it happens again. That is what helps us keep our sanity. Heck, we planned a wedding at some point too during our renovation.

You need those sanity breaks. The same reason why parents need to get away for the weekend-the house is just a big child. The advantage of the house though is that it will still be there and most projects can wait if you just go away for a bit.

After the radiator project and the heat is on, I have a spa day on the calendar.

Gary said...

So I take it that a weekend getaway to help out at the "Crackhouse" is out of the question? As for the spa part, we could hose you guys down in the back yard at the end of the day!

christine said...

The dark side is always there in the background when friends call and say: "hey, you know we went canyoning this weekend and then we all went to a huge backyard barbecue at so-and-so's house and then Sunday we all went sailing. I really wish you guys could have been there. Oh well, maybe next time..."

We get seduced by the dark side a lot too. The dark side has no style though.

Anonymous said...

Oh, can I relate. I'm at the tail end of my kitchen restoration...you know, the point where everything looks "almost" done, but there are really about a million and one little things to do, each requiring tremendous patience and attention to detail, which of course, you do not have because you have been working 12 hour days on the damned thing for four weeks straight, losing weight from not eating, and not thinking clearly from not sleeping.

Anyhow, yesterday afternoon at 2:30, I hit The Wall. Sitting on my kitchen stairs, head in my lap, I muttered repeatedly..."I'm done. I'm done now. I'm going to sell the house and let someone else finish it. We can eat out until then. I'm just done."

I'm doing a little better this morning, since several of my friends have decided to rescue me from myself and help me finish up this week, but oh man, do you have my sympathy. Your demons and mine have probably been swapping stories this morning.