I have two recurring dreams that are (or should be) a sign that I am stressed out.
The first hasn't really made an appearance for a while. In it I either wake up and realize that I have slept in or I am in the middle of doing something and realize that I am late for an exam/handing in a big project that is due. I also realize that I haven't done any of the course assignments, haven't been to class in weeks, haven't read the course work, meant to drop the class before the drop class deadline but totally spaced out on actually dropping the course and now I have to walk in late for an exam that I am not at all prepared for/hand in a project that is totally unresearched and incomplete. I wake up panicked and flustered and it takes several moments of deep breathing to realize that I haven't been in school for almost 4 years now, that I did in fact drop all my classes 4 years ago, that I have no exam that I am late for, no project that I haven't researched.
The second dream is the one I have had most lately. I don't remember the dream so much as my actual waking moments after the dream. I am always searching for something I have lost. And the feeling of having lost something is so strong and so real that I am often on my feet out of bed digging in a drawer or peering under a shelf before I realize that I don't own/gave away a long time ago/never had what I am looking for. It used to be my retainer, sometimes it is something non-descript - a book, a key, lately it is a wedding band or an engagement ring (I wake up rubbing my left ring finger and panicking because there is no return caress of cold metal).
Is that weird? Do any of you have recurring/stress related dreams?
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
One Week
It has been a week today since I have been in my very own home. I still don't think it has entirely sunk in yet. I have had many moments of realizing that I live here and I own this place and it is mine to do what I want in and every time it feels like a new realization. I still feel like at any moment now someone is going to wake me from a very good dream. But that isn't going to happen. This isn't a dream.
I am loving living on my own. I am loving that this whole space is a reflection of my tastes, of my hard work. I am loving that I can come home at night and no one has touched my stuff, no one is in the kitchen or the bathroom or doing laundry when I want to be, everything is exactly how I left it when I went to work in the morning. I don't have to feel guilty about leaving something out or not cleaning up right away. I don't have to rush through my meal prep or my laundry so that someone else can use the space. I can do what I want when I want. Or not. It is awesome.
I knew that I was stressed about my living situation but I had no idea how stressed until suddenly that stress wasn't there.
It was a lot of work to get to this point. I got possession last Tuesday and there were more than a few moments when I wondered if I had made the biggest mistake of my life. My realtor and I had access just prior to possession to do a walk through and make sure nothing was majorly wrong, that all the appliances worked etc. The seller was supposed to have vacated the premises and surrendered all his keys to the building. Part way through the walk through he showed up, still having a set of keys. He had just happened to be in the neighbourhood and noticed that the lights were on so he figured he had better check it out - and he wasn't giving up his keys until his money was in his pocket (creepy!). Needless to say my first phone call was to a locksmith. I couldn't do anything about the main doors but I could certainly make sure he wouldn't have access to my suite. My realtor (and his) were both appalled and advised that in all their years of selling homes this had never happened.
Creepy Old Guy also felt it appropriate to share that he was moving to the Phillipines (might it have something to do with the on-line dating printouts of younger women he left lying around when we did our initial home inspection? My realtor and I have money on him having found some child mail order bride. Also creepy.) And then he tried to tell me that he had the living room carpets cleaned (not so much). He felt bad for two reasons - one, because he didn't think they had done a very good job (Because they didn't show up!) and two, because he didn't realize that he should also have had the bedroom carpet done - he had never opened the curtains so he didn't realize they were dirty, but that black spot right there? that was from his feet. (Creepiest) Needless to say, I was very glad that I had arranged with a co-worker to borrow her steamcleaner.
I knew that I would want to do my own cleaning before painting/moving in. In the back of my mind I think I realized that it wasn't like moving into an apartment where they are pretty much cleaned before you move in (although not so much in the place B and I lived together). But I had no thoughts that Creepy Old Guy would not have cleaned at all. In fact I am in serious doubt that he ever cleaned at all, maybe the odd wipe of the countertops but that was about it. It was disgusting. Think about a moment when you have found some bizarre and hard to clean corner of your own home and realized that you have missed cleaning it for a while. Now imagine that it is 600 sq ft of missed spots and it is not even your own dirt. I wanted to vomit and then call my mother. It wasn't the dirtiest place I have ever seen and it wasn't like he went out of his way to leave a major mess - there were no bottles or flies or anything of that nature. It just wasn't clean. And the floors were sticky. And there were splashes of coffee all over the kitchen. And the toilet had never been cleaned. And the fridge & microwave stank. (Vinegar is my new best friend) I bought rubber gloves and and arsenal of cleaning supplies and went to town for a good 7 hours. Plus the 2 hours it took to steam clean the rugs.
Then we spent 2 days painting. I had never painted before so I had no idea how that would go. And it is a little daunting to look at a very small paint sample and imagine how you think a whole room will look in that color and then hope that you are right. But I love my colors (Cappuccino in the living room/kitchen & Light Mocha in the bed/bathroom) so I guess it turned out all right in the end. The most awkward parts were painting around the sink and toilet in the bathroom. The sink because you kind of have to crouch on the countertops and paint in the dark because the lights are too hot (we rigged up an alternate lighting system) and the toilet because it is just awkward all together. Unless maybe you drained all the water and took off the tank? I managed to earn a well played from my cousin for getting out of back of the toilet duty on the second coat.
Finally it was moving day. In a snowstorm. And then a lot of shopping and hours spent putting things together. Thank god for Gerg - he more than made up for my dad's lack of handyman skills. I love my father, but task oriented and handymanesque he is not.
So here I am. Surrounded by all (well most) of my own things. Arranged how I like them. And I am almost ready to believe that I might just be happy.
I am loving living on my own. I am loving that this whole space is a reflection of my tastes, of my hard work. I am loving that I can come home at night and no one has touched my stuff, no one is in the kitchen or the bathroom or doing laundry when I want to be, everything is exactly how I left it when I went to work in the morning. I don't have to feel guilty about leaving something out or not cleaning up right away. I don't have to rush through my meal prep or my laundry so that someone else can use the space. I can do what I want when I want. Or not. It is awesome.
I knew that I was stressed about my living situation but I had no idea how stressed until suddenly that stress wasn't there.
It was a lot of work to get to this point. I got possession last Tuesday and there were more than a few moments when I wondered if I had made the biggest mistake of my life. My realtor and I had access just prior to possession to do a walk through and make sure nothing was majorly wrong, that all the appliances worked etc. The seller was supposed to have vacated the premises and surrendered all his keys to the building. Part way through the walk through he showed up, still having a set of keys. He had just happened to be in the neighbourhood and noticed that the lights were on so he figured he had better check it out - and he wasn't giving up his keys until his money was in his pocket (creepy!). Needless to say my first phone call was to a locksmith. I couldn't do anything about the main doors but I could certainly make sure he wouldn't have access to my suite. My realtor (and his) were both appalled and advised that in all their years of selling homes this had never happened.
Creepy Old Guy also felt it appropriate to share that he was moving to the Phillipines (might it have something to do with the on-line dating printouts of younger women he left lying around when we did our initial home inspection? My realtor and I have money on him having found some child mail order bride. Also creepy.) And then he tried to tell me that he had the living room carpets cleaned (not so much). He felt bad for two reasons - one, because he didn't think they had done a very good job (Because they didn't show up!) and two, because he didn't realize that he should also have had the bedroom carpet done - he had never opened the curtains so he didn't realize they were dirty, but that black spot right there? that was from his feet. (Creepiest) Needless to say, I was very glad that I had arranged with a co-worker to borrow her steamcleaner.
I knew that I would want to do my own cleaning before painting/moving in. In the back of my mind I think I realized that it wasn't like moving into an apartment where they are pretty much cleaned before you move in (although not so much in the place B and I lived together). But I had no thoughts that Creepy Old Guy would not have cleaned at all. In fact I am in serious doubt that he ever cleaned at all, maybe the odd wipe of the countertops but that was about it. It was disgusting. Think about a moment when you have found some bizarre and hard to clean corner of your own home and realized that you have missed cleaning it for a while. Now imagine that it is 600 sq ft of missed spots and it is not even your own dirt. I wanted to vomit and then call my mother. It wasn't the dirtiest place I have ever seen and it wasn't like he went out of his way to leave a major mess - there were no bottles or flies or anything of that nature. It just wasn't clean. And the floors were sticky. And there were splashes of coffee all over the kitchen. And the toilet had never been cleaned. And the fridge & microwave stank. (Vinegar is my new best friend) I bought rubber gloves and and arsenal of cleaning supplies and went to town for a good 7 hours. Plus the 2 hours it took to steam clean the rugs.
Then we spent 2 days painting. I had never painted before so I had no idea how that would go. And it is a little daunting to look at a very small paint sample and imagine how you think a whole room will look in that color and then hope that you are right. But I love my colors (Cappuccino in the living room/kitchen & Light Mocha in the bed/bathroom) so I guess it turned out all right in the end. The most awkward parts were painting around the sink and toilet in the bathroom. The sink because you kind of have to crouch on the countertops and paint in the dark because the lights are too hot (we rigged up an alternate lighting system) and the toilet because it is just awkward all together. Unless maybe you drained all the water and took off the tank? I managed to earn a well played from my cousin for getting out of back of the toilet duty on the second coat.
Finally it was moving day. In a snowstorm. And then a lot of shopping and hours spent putting things together. Thank god for Gerg - he more than made up for my dad's lack of handyman skills. I love my father, but task oriented and handymanesque he is not.
So here I am. Surrounded by all (well most) of my own things. Arranged how I like them. And I am almost ready to believe that I might just be happy.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Quickie
There is so much to do and the days in which to do it in are flying by. It has been only a month and a half or so since this whole home buying plan got put into action but it feels like about three years. I think back to something that happened yesterday or last week and think was it only yesterday? Feels like a month ago. If the stress doesn't kill me it will only make me stronger right?
There is so much to say and yet the words to say it with elude me. The energy to sit in front of my computer and pour out my heart and be honest with myself and with you is sitting in a little well that is being covered up with lists upon lists of things to do and people to call and places to be. And when I do think about writing all I want to do is be ranty and fixate on things that don't really matter because the things that do matter? Scary doesn't even begin to describe it.
Everything feels larger than life and overwhelming. Work, the thought of painting my new place, keeping my current place tidy for showings, trying to fit in family and friends and appointments and me time, keeping up the gym ... the last one is SO important because I think the hour that I spend there on a (mostly) daily basis is what is keeping me sane. That hour of sweat pouring down my face and back, that hour where all I can think about is taking that next step, lifting that next weight and breathing, always always breathing. Everything else falls away for that hour and I feel like I might not drown, not yet, not today.
There is so much to say and yet the words to say it with elude me. The energy to sit in front of my computer and pour out my heart and be honest with myself and with you is sitting in a little well that is being covered up with lists upon lists of things to do and people to call and places to be. And when I do think about writing all I want to do is be ranty and fixate on things that don't really matter because the things that do matter? Scary doesn't even begin to describe it.
Everything feels larger than life and overwhelming. Work, the thought of painting my new place, keeping my current place tidy for showings, trying to fit in family and friends and appointments and me time, keeping up the gym ... the last one is SO important because I think the hour that I spend there on a (mostly) daily basis is what is keeping me sane. That hour of sweat pouring down my face and back, that hour where all I can think about is taking that next step, lifting that next weight and breathing, always always breathing. Everything else falls away for that hour and I feel like I might not drown, not yet, not today.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
It is Official
My condo deal went firm today!
The week was not as housewise hectic as anticipated but I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I am (not so secretly) super anal and on the ball. Monday was brutal because I made all my phone calls first thing and then had to wait impatiently for everyone else to get their lives in order and get back to me. But by the end of Tuesday I had all my financing approved and all my appointments set up and felt pretty good about life. So now all I have to do is talk to the lawyer (beginning of April), pick paint colors, pack and move. Everything has fallen into place and I can't help wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. But every time that negativity, those thoughts that my life can't be totally fabulous, creep up on me I take a deep breath and say no, I deserve to be happy, I deserve good things to happen to me, and I can deal with any minor bumps along the way. It's not a fool proof plan but it is keeping me moving forward with a smile on my face.
I had my inspection this afternoon and got to see the place knowing that it was mine and it was an awesome feeling walking through the door and thinking, I own this place! It still smelled like old man and still doesn't show well but I have a vision and think that once I paint and nest and make it my own I am really really going to love it. I noticed all kinds of little things I missed in the terror of trying to make a good decision, like the lights over the breakfast bar and how huge the balcony really is. I am excited over really nerdy things like how much storage space there is and the nook with the built in computer desk and the insuite laundry. Not to mention the walk-in closet and the breakfast bar and the decent sized bedroom and the underground heated parking.
My posession date is April 15 and it is going to come quickly. But I am ready and I am excited and I truly believe that everything is going to work out. I will be poorer than a churchmouse but I will have a home and I will feel like there is somewhere I finally belong in this city. Somewhere that I can come home to as a sanctuary. Somewhere that is mine all mine, from the furniture to the decorations to the sweat labour that will go into the paint job. I can hardly wait.
The week was not as housewise hectic as anticipated but I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I am (not so secretly) super anal and on the ball. Monday was brutal because I made all my phone calls first thing and then had to wait impatiently for everyone else to get their lives in order and get back to me. But by the end of Tuesday I had all my financing approved and all my appointments set up and felt pretty good about life. So now all I have to do is talk to the lawyer (beginning of April), pick paint colors, pack and move. Everything has fallen into place and I can't help wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. But every time that negativity, those thoughts that my life can't be totally fabulous, creep up on me I take a deep breath and say no, I deserve to be happy, I deserve good things to happen to me, and I can deal with any minor bumps along the way. It's not a fool proof plan but it is keeping me moving forward with a smile on my face.
I had my inspection this afternoon and got to see the place knowing that it was mine and it was an awesome feeling walking through the door and thinking, I own this place! It still smelled like old man and still doesn't show well but I have a vision and think that once I paint and nest and make it my own I am really really going to love it. I noticed all kinds of little things I missed in the terror of trying to make a good decision, like the lights over the breakfast bar and how huge the balcony really is. I am excited over really nerdy things like how much storage space there is and the nook with the built in computer desk and the insuite laundry. Not to mention the walk-in closet and the breakfast bar and the decent sized bedroom and the underground heated parking.
My posession date is April 15 and it is going to come quickly. But I am ready and I am excited and I truly believe that everything is going to work out. I will be poorer than a churchmouse but I will have a home and I will feel like there is somewhere I finally belong in this city. Somewhere that I can come home to as a sanctuary. Somewhere that is mine all mine, from the furniture to the decorations to the sweat labour that will go into the paint job. I can hardly wait.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Not Knowing
I didn't put an offer in. I almost did. But then I didn't.
And I am frustrated, confused and feeling rather stupid because there are so many things I don't know and I am not one who likes to negotiate and everyone has about 4 million opinions about what I should do and how I should do it and ... and I just don't know.
I know that I need to move. I know that I want to buy rather than rent. I know that I want a one bedroom so that I can live on my own. I know that it is a buyers market right now.
But I don't know what the market is going to do. And I don't know what a fair price actually is given that even offering "low" is still considerably high for what a place is actually worth. Except that what a place is actually worth is driven by the market and ...
I have looked at 12 places (the only 12 in my price range in the SE/SW and not on the ground floor) and liked 2 of them. Not loved. And there are things that I don't like about both places. So does that mean I should widen my search or does that mean I should be more ok with offering low and sticking low. And how does my realtor fit in? Because obviously she is in it for the commission and the more I pay the more she makes. But she says she wants me to love the place I make an offer on and that if I am not willing to move much off my starting point then that means I don't love it and won't be happy so we should keep looking. But then other people say that even if I did love it I should still start low and stay firm because it is a buyers market and the seller should come as close to my price as possible. They say it is like a game of chicken and if the sellers place has sat long enough without any bites then they have to be getting nervous so even if I am nervous because I have a deadline for when I have to move by I still have the upper hand.
It doesn't really feel like the upper hand. It feels like I don't know. And like I should know. And like I have to make a decision only how do I know if I am making the right decision and ...
Have I mentioned the frustrated and stressed part?
I am trying to stay positive and believe that things will work out the way they are supposed to and that I will find a place I love and can afford. It is really hard to do today.
And I am frustrated, confused and feeling rather stupid because there are so many things I don't know and I am not one who likes to negotiate and everyone has about 4 million opinions about what I should do and how I should do it and ... and I just don't know.
I know that I need to move. I know that I want to buy rather than rent. I know that I want a one bedroom so that I can live on my own. I know that it is a buyers market right now.
But I don't know what the market is going to do. And I don't know what a fair price actually is given that even offering "low" is still considerably high for what a place is actually worth. Except that what a place is actually worth is driven by the market and ...
I have looked at 12 places (the only 12 in my price range in the SE/SW and not on the ground floor) and liked 2 of them. Not loved. And there are things that I don't like about both places. So does that mean I should widen my search or does that mean I should be more ok with offering low and sticking low. And how does my realtor fit in? Because obviously she is in it for the commission and the more I pay the more she makes. But she says she wants me to love the place I make an offer on and that if I am not willing to move much off my starting point then that means I don't love it and won't be happy so we should keep looking. But then other people say that even if I did love it I should still start low and stay firm because it is a buyers market and the seller should come as close to my price as possible. They say it is like a game of chicken and if the sellers place has sat long enough without any bites then they have to be getting nervous so even if I am nervous because I have a deadline for when I have to move by I still have the upper hand.
It doesn't really feel like the upper hand. It feels like I don't know. And like I should know. And like I have to make a decision only how do I know if I am making the right decision and ...
Have I mentioned the frustrated and stressed part?
I am trying to stay positive and believe that things will work out the way they are supposed to and that I will find a place I love and can afford. It is really hard to do today.
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