Also, we'll need a urine sample from your first born.

So, we are going through the home-buying process.

No, for serious, we actually found a place we love - and it's not the short sale. It's pretty much perfect. It's 2-bedroom (yes, we'll have children someday; no, we're not having them yet; yes, two bedrooms is plenty), 2-1/2 bath, gorgeous kitchen with this wonderful open floorplan, very bright, very warm, very "closets, closets, everywhere!" and I want it to be ours.

So, before we looked, I'd gotten pre-approved, which sounds a lot more reassuring than it actually is. Now that our offer was accepted, we're going through the frustrating process of actually attempting to get our funding, and I'm realizing that being told you're "pre-approved" is pretty much like saying "you've got potential, maybe." Three weeks ago, this dude was all, "Ohhhh, good luck on your home search; there won't be a problem, ma'am" (don't EVEN get me started on the "ma'am" thing) and, now, it's all, "Well, we might let you have this loan, ma'am, but first, you'll have to provide urine samples for six generations of your family, your bank statements for the past 4,000 years, and a five paragraph essay on how to cure AIDS." Sure. No problem.

I just want closets. Is that so much to ask?

And, this process seems to be taking its toll. Yesterday, I was in a hurry to get to a committee meeting, but I was determined to display the control I still have over everything, so I thought I'd throw together a quick dinner for husband and me (Those of you who know me know that I actually DO cook, rather well, in fact, so the "quick" dinner concept was presenting a challenge). I decided I'd make grilled cheese, which I don't often do - but, halfway through, I apparently forgot that's what I'd decided to make, and I started adding deli turkey to the sandwiches (...? I don't know.), and mustard, and I let everything cook too long, and I wound up with, like, turkey charcoal with a faint, mustard-y aftertaste. Also, before starting the mac n' cheese, I didn't do an "ingredient check," because instant mac n' cheese has only... what, three ingredients? Well, I had two. I was missing the milk. So, I fed my poor husband a hot charcoal, meat & mustard sandwich with a side of macaroni noodles and cheese powder. He gave me a hug and said, "I'm not sure I've ever seen you so stressed." He's pretty wonderful. Because, seriously? If he made me that meal? I'd be all, "um, this is black-mustard toast and noodles. Try again."

The point here is that buying a home will drive you to sheer and utter madness. And, no matter who you talk to, they'll all be like, "It's sooooooo worth it!" when, really, what they should be saying is, "The process of buying a home will make you insane. Seriously, the tax breaks just aren't worth it. Do you like your mind? Would you like to keep it?" You get the point.

Someday, this blog isn't going to be about buying homes. It won't always be this one-trick pony. Soon, it will be about fun and cocktails and music and love and life and happiness.

But, right now, there is only townhouse. And burned sandwiches. And cheese powder.

Maybe renting isn't so bad after all...