i'm in love

My kid sticking a pencil through a hole in his shoe ... the arctic cold of the library ... the five-dollar bill DQ offered me as "gas money" and then spent on a Happy Meal ... the terrible fuschia v-neck I wore to work because I got it for Christmas and never once wore it, and now know why.

Stills from a day.

I drove by the building whose model unit looks so awesome online (of course) - it is pink, but not in a bad way. It has been my lifelong dream to live next to a convenience store, I told DQ. That got a wide-eyed "REALLY?" ... like, ooh, Slurpee every day. No, not really, I answered. Since she's still too young to understand the thrill of potential home ownership, 7-Eleven or no, I left it at that and eased on down the road.

I am caught in the throes of first-time infatuation, falling for nearly every manipulated bunch of pixels on the internet. Buy me, fix me, love me. Look at my ceramic tiles. Look at my bathtub the size of an Olympic swimming pool. Look at my brand new range hood. Look at my termite damage. Oops, don't look at that, pretend you never saw it - look over here at my pergo kitchen floor instead.

Want to know how many listings boasted "bamboo decor" or entirely mirrored walls? One too many. Yet I can't wait to start inhaling fresh paint and calling the termite guys. This doesn't mesh with my plans to go H/T next year, but when push comes to shove, I'll survive.

I really, honestly, can't wait.