How To: Play Catch Up

To say I’ve been busy might be the understatement of the year. First off, let me apologize for my lax attitude towards Mishaps these past few weeks. I have had my plate piled entirely too high (as I’m sure you can tell from the “handling stress”-type posts lately) and am working on whittling it down.

I sat down to think about what to write this week and decided, rather than picking any of the plethora of subjects that relate to my life right now, I owed you an explanation of my recent Mishaps.

As you all know, I’ve been working on buying a house. Exciting news! Mishaps of an Almost Adult now has a brand-spanking-new headquarters, complete with its very own OFFICE to write all of this insightful and hilarious advice for you. Who knows. Maybe I'll even write a book now.

Being a stereotypical first-time homeowner, I pictured everything in its place and was SO excited. Upon entering my 1955 house for the first time all alone, I realized I had just bought a 66-year-old house. Hm. It wasn’t quite as pretty as I remembered it when it was cutely decorated. Standing there in this big (little) empty house, I was slightly overwhelmed. I walked around the house, got stuck in the bathroom (that door is just plain weird), tried unsuccessfully to open a few different windows, and finally just decided to start with the patio. What could be wrong with a patio?

I did, no joke, FOUR LAPS around my house looking for the water spigot. At this point my new neighbors were standing in their driveways watching me open and close the garage door, walking in circles with Brodie at my heels with I’m sure a look on my face that was half confused, half frustrated. I had an entire 30-minute conversation with my dad on the phone asking if he remembered seeing one, then about the spelling of spigot (he was right, I was way off), and then finally estimating the cost of adding one. Why would I have a hose but no spigot? This made zero sense. What. The. Poop. This house was officially WEIRD.

I finally found the spigot, hooked up my hose, of course ended up drenching myself, hosed off the patio, pulled out my new patio chairs and collapsed into it. Things seem to be going in this pattern, but I’m chugging along. I currently have paint all over me: legs, hands, elbows, even on my forehead. Beats me. Don’t ask.

All of this has been an excellent distraction for me these past few days from my real source of stress. I quit my job this week. It was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made, but it was past time and I needed to move on.

The timing of my job heading south lately was entwined so tightly with me getting my house that I was on the verge of a Stage Five Meltdown for the past several weeks. I’m not sure what stages One through Four would be, but I’m talking head-between-your-knees, crying hysterically over lost keys in the middle of your parents kitchen type meltdown.

I am grateful for the opportunity I had over the past year, for the friends I made there, and most importantly, for giving me the means to make my dream of homeownership a possibility.

The best news is though, I am starting a new chapter of Mishaps. I am beyond excited about the future. In the meantime, here's some things I've learned lately.

1. Latex paint claims to wash off with soap and water. My arm can attest that this is not as easy as it sounds.
2. Be nice to your neighbors. They might happen to own a lawn service and can help you out.
3. Apartment dogs have zero idea what to do with a backyard.
4. Spigots apparently don't have to be attached to the house, and might be under an insulator bag  that resembles a sleeping bag for a garden gnome. 
5. Make friends at the nearest Home Depot.
6. Its beneficial to have a friend who drives a pick-up truck.
7. I have the best family and friends ever. 

Mishaps of an Almost Adult HQ