It's Just Okay

As I wait for my first mortgage payment check to clear at the bank, I reflect on the fact that I've been in my house almost 2 months now. The first 30 days were a blur of restlessness and unpacking and degunking the previous owner's mess. I couldn't sleep really well but somehow managed because my body was plain worn out from the working full-time, unpacking every night and the dreaded breaking down of the boxes.

Last night, I'm out at TJ's with Mom grocery shopping. First of all, she STILL has this bizarre worry that I'm not eating enough. I have no idea where this comes from. I'm not malnourished but rather a happy, young woman with hips and a sugar belly. When it's this hot, for this long, I simply cannot eat. Everything that's not plain make me ill. I've been eating white bread and hard boiled eggs mostly. I also have to remember to drink anything that' not too sugary or caffinated so that means tea and bubbly water (aka seltzer, mineral or club soda) galor. Every once in a while I'll be rabidly hungry and eat some meat, like this amazing bbq we had on Friday at Hill Country . I ate sausage and one rib, yum!

Okay so anyway, back to my mother and eating. She tried, unsuccessfully to put an entire bag of frozen chicken breasts into my cart. "Ma, I cannot possibly turn my oven on now, it's too hot. I promise I'll eat that stuff in the winter". So she is therefore satisfied when I pick up about 4 or 5 different apps. that will become my dinners for the next week or so. I'll make my own app. sampler. After it's been established that I do eat 3 solid meals a day, she moves onto another pressing question "How do you like your house?"

In the back of my mind, I'm thinking about:
1. The mouse that won't go away and dreading calling an exterminator
2. The ceiling fan whose cover won't go back on after I replaced the bulbs
3. The windows that simply won't open, or as my father says, if you do they won't come back down.

So instead of venting, I simply say "it's fine". She's taken aback, stops in the aisle and muses "well, I thought you'd say more than that". I'm really tired and don't want to start a useless conversation about the fact that now all I think about regarding my house is, when I get extra money for home repair, what should I fix first? I guess it's this to-do list in your mind that creeps in when you've unpacked and decorated but then you see the flaws that you naively overlooked during the one or two times you walked through the house.

Technically, I saw all this stuff when I did walk through but I knew I didn't have the $$ right away to make is shiny and newish. I accepted the fact that my first place, at my age, was going to be your typical diamond in the rough. The bones of the place are good, but it's obvious that quite a few people have sojounrned there over the years. Based on the unsmooth parts of the walls, it's gotta be at least a dozen or so. I can't imagine anymore than one adult living here. It's definitely been rented out, it just has that feeling.

I wish I could somehow, buff the floors to an indeliable shine and take away the bits of gunk that remains there. It bugs me the way that my mother's overflowing freezer does. But I simply don't have the motivation to truly get on my hands and knees and fix it. Oh well, everything's just okay at my new place.