We almost bought a house on Friday. Actually, let me rephrase that: We tried to buy a house on Friday and fell victim to one of those famous Toronto bidding wars. It wasn’t even the best house in the world; the kitchen was beautiful and I was already imagining the family dinners I’d serve in the dining room, plus there was the added bonus of ensuite laundry (which I’ve dreamed about since I left home), but it was small and there was definitely work to be done. I think it was just the prospect of a shake-up that I’m sad to lose.
I’m feeling a little stuck these days. I’m usually the go-go-go girl, who’s always training for a race, writing a book and planning a trip, but I don’t feel like doing any of it. This isn’t the first time this has happened, either. I remember the weeks before I graduated high school, and the last month of university; I was just dying for something different. But when you’re an adult, those changes aren’t inherent anymore. You have to push yourself out of your own routine, and that just isn’t as easy as counting down to the last day of school. I guess I figured the house was a bit like a fresh start, which is something I start to crave after a while. We’ve also been talking about it for so long (not to mention saving every spare penny for years) that I just want it to materialize so we can move forward.
I find myself asking if it’s healthy or not, this need for change. It’s not like I need to alter my life every three months: I don’t flit from job to job, and I don’t like to move more than necessary (if I did, I’d be a glutton for punishment. I hate packing as much as the next person). There just comes a point, when I feel complacent and unmotivated, when I know something needs to evolve. I would want the same for Sophie. I would want her to recognize when she’s just coasting and to push herself to change course. But at the same time, I don’t want her to think that change is always going to fulfill her. I know, you have to be happy with what you have. I say that all the time (mostly to myself). And I am. I just really wanted to become a less frequent visitor at the Laundromat and to be able to host a dinner party for more than two people. That would have been enough.
We’re not throwing in the towel (because that would be the opposite of my personality). We’re looking at listings daily and our agent is really good at the pep talk (seriously, she should have a real estate buyers’ inspirational tape or something. She’s the only reason I didn’t cry on Saturday night when we found out we didn’t get the house). I went for a long walk with a neighbour this morning to try and break out of my couch-potato tendencies of late, and I intend to go home and pull out that novel I’ve been neglecting. I figure Soph could probably use a little change in routine, too, so maybe we’ll add an evening walk before bed. Nothing cheers me up more than watching her point out every single dog, bird, car and airplane she sees.
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