Good Thing: Just Lie Down

This is a favorite quote of mine that I haven't revisited in a while. It probably would have helped me to read this about a week ago!

Stress is basically a disconnection from the earth, a forgetting of the breath. Stress is an ignorant state. It believes that everything is an emergency. Nothing is that important. Just lie down.
~Natalie Goldberg

Decisions, Decisions

I am sitting at home on a perfect Saturday morning. Dan is gone for the weekend for his annual boys' weekend, I have two sweet kitties dozing nearby, a cup of decaf within reach, and Emiliana Torrini playing in the background. A lovely, still, quiet morning. And a complete contrast to what the rest of my week was like.

Only a few days ago, I was in a complete frenzy, with my head in the toilet and my head in my hands thanks to a stress-induced migraine, wondering how the hell I was going to get through the week and what the hell I was going to do next. This week felt like a marathon where I was pushed and pushed toward the finish line with no stops for water and no gasps for air. Completely and totally grueling.

I have always, always been someone who has trouble making big decisions. With the small, everyday kind of stuff I can be pretty quick and decisive, but for anything that I feel has permanent or semi-permanent consequences, I become a complete and total wreck. Things like choosing a college, picking a major, deciding where to move and whether to take a job have been agonizing ordeals for me. I always seem to worry that I am going to make the wrong choice, even though I know that life is not composed of just right or wrong and that no matter what I decide, things will most likely turn out just fine. In fact, the only big decision I can remember not agonizing about was the decision to marry Dan--which I suppose speaks volumes to just how much I know that man is right for me!

And so, when it came time to buy a house, I always knew that I would be a mess. Just deciding whether or not to move forward with a house purchase is something I've waffled on for over a year now. Once Dan and I found the house we're under contract for, I was amazed at how decisive I felt about it and how comfortable I was with moving forward. I even remember thinking to myself, "Wow, I can't believe I'm not having a complete freak out." Really, though, I should have known that it wasn't that simple--as the 10-day window for inspections and financing started drawing to a close (and as we came closer and closer to actually making it a done deal), the more anxious I became. I managed to ignore my feelings until mid-week ,when my stress exploded into one of my worst migraines in recent memory. So much for calmly and confidently moving forward.

Compounding my stress was the inspection report. It actually came back rather favorably, with no major surprises, and Dan and I were feeling pretty good. But once my home-repair-guru dad and stepdad had a chance to look at it, suddently I wasn't so sure. They were talking us through every ramification of every possible item, telling us of potential costs and presenting worst-case scenarios, and though they were trying their best not to freak me out, my mind tends to jump to worst-case scenarios anyway. All of the information overload and potentially costly unknowns was a deadly formula for a freak out. And so I freaked out. Majorly. Poor Dan.

Eventually, with the help of lots of talks with Dan and Seester and the parents, I talked myself down off the ledge. I remembered that worst-case scenarios were not the most likely ones. I remembered that my gut feelings about the house were good, that objectively the inspection report was pretty solid, and that I had once again fallen into the trap of overanalyzing and overworrying instead of just listening to my intution. Once I made the decision to move forward, I felt perfectly fine with it. For me, just making the decision--and accepting the opportunity costs of that while letting go of alternative paths and worries of regret--is always the hardest part. Once I get past that, I'm usually fine, and I usually realize that the path I'm taking is the one I wanted to go with all along, with lots of wasted energy devoted to worry and overthinking in between.

Of all the bad patterns and habits I'm trying to break, this is the one that bothers me most. My hyper-anxious, overanalyzing self that worries about every consequence of every big decision usually does more to paralyze me than it helps me make the right choice. And I know that it all comes down to the same thing--constantly worrying about making mistakes or doing the wrong thing. And that, my friends, will be taken up with my therapist next week.

Luckily, though, now that the decision is made, the freak out has passed. With just a few inspection negotiations to go, it looks like we are all set to move forward, with a settlement date of July 22. And now that I've let go of all the "what ifs," of all the money worries, of all the things that could go wrong, of all the other houses that could be out there, of all the possible benefits of just staying put, I can put all the possible "wrongs" behind me and focus on what's right: a lovely house in a place we love that's all we hoped for and more. Thinking about that, it's hard to imagine that I ever worried that buying it was a bad decision at all.

Finding a New Rhythm

So far, my new job is going wonderfully. I feel SO good about doing work that has an impact, that means something to me, that uses my skills, and that gives me opportunties to learn. The work is challenging but not overly stressful. My coworkers are great. The kids are adorable and often hilarious, as so many preschoolers are. So far, so good.

As expected, though, I'm having some problems regulating my routine. With the new commute, I have to leave my house about an hour earlier than I used to, though I get home around the same time. Adjusting to one hour isn't a huge difference, but my morning time is so valuable to me. For one, it used to be when I got to the gym; I'm still planning to do that if I can, but I haven't yet been able to adjust my sleep schedule to get up at 5:15 in the morning (yikes). I'm so much less motivated to work out in the evenings, and I find that exercising later in the day makes it difficult for me to get to bed at a reasonable hour. I also find that morning exercise really helps me feel clear-headed and energized at the start of the day, so I really need to try and find a way to get that time in during the morning hours if I can.

I actually think the real problem is getting to bed on time--if I can get to bed earlier, I can get up earlier, but cutting my evening an hour short is an adjustment I have yet to make. I just can't seem to get out of the rhythm of my usual evening routine and typical bedtime. As such, I either haven't been exercising enough or haven't been sleeping well, both of which seem to lead to other bad habits like not eating well. I have eaten undiclosable amounts of ice cream and cookies in the past two weeks, and I don't even usually keep ice cream and cookies in the house. I'm definitely feeling a bit of sorts right now in the area of self-care.

Between the new job and the house (if all goes well, we are scheduled to close July 22), I know that the next couple of months are going to be busy, to say the least. On the one hand, I feel the need to cut myself some slack and not worry too much about getting in exercise and making sure my meals consist of more than bread and cheese and tomato sauce (aka pizza). On the other hand, the times when we are most busy and stressed are the times that we most need good self-care, yes? Oh, the irony that the times we most need to tend to ourselves are the times when it's hardest to do so.

I'm going to try--really hard--to make bedtime a priority in the coming weeks. If I can just get to bed earlier, then I'm hoping I'll slowly be able to get up earlier. And if I can get up earlier, then I can get to the gym. And if I get to the gym, I'll feel inclined to eat better. And then it will just all magically fall into place, right? :) I sure hope it happens in some variation of this, because I'm seriously floundering a bit here, and I'm hoping I can figure out some way to get back on track. I suppose I'll start now by heading off to bed. . . .

Good Things

So. . . remember that dream house we walked away from a little while ago? Sad as we were to leave it behind, we felt certain that it was the right thing to do given the seller's price constraints. Frustrated that the best opportunity we had didn't work out, we agreed to put the whole house hunt aside for a while and just focus on saving, anticipating that it would be a long while before we were ready to move ahead again.

Amazingly, a week later we got a message from our Realtor. The sellers came back to us and agreed to take our offer (which was low, given that we put it out there as a start to our negotiations) plus $5000. I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that we were stunned by this news and a little unsure what to do, given that we had moved on and lost all emotional attachment to the house. We had also become rather comfortable with the idea of building up our savings nest and continuing to settle in our current place. We asked for a couple of days, feeling completely in limbo and on shaky ground.

I am not someone who believes that there is someone or something out there orchestrating everything. I don't believe that everything happens for a reason (though I do believe there is value in attaching meaning to our experiences, even if we don't understand them at the time). However, I do believe that sometimes there is something (or someone) out there--whether it is our intuition or the Universe or God--gently nudging us in the right direction. When we left this house behind and it miraculously came back to us, it didn't just feel like a nudge--it felt like a unmistakable shove. Having had some of the urgency and pressure taken off of us from the week before, some of the emotional investment dissipated, and such an extraordinary set of circumstances come together to make the house seem within reach, everything pointed to the fact that it was time to make a move.

And so, my friends, it appears that we are buying a house. And not just A house, but THE house. The kind of house we've walked by many times and wished we could have, but never expected to get. The kind that feels so much like "us" and so much like the right place it makes us feel giddy and start dancing in circles. We are under contract, and the inspection is done, with no major surprises. The deal is not sealed 100%, but right now there's no reason to believe that that the house won't be ours. We got an amazing deal, for a house that we love, in a community that we would be heartbroken to leave behind. We are so excited and grateful.

Having wished for so long that so many things--including a new job and a house--would fall into place, I am a little overwhelmed that they both have come to pass so quickly and so beautifully in the last several weeks. My tendency is to want to believe that it's all too good to be true and that the other shoe is going to drop at any moment. And while I know that things won't be perfect, and that not everything will live up to my expectations, I'm going to ignore the voice that waits for the worst. Good things happen all the time, and we are all deserving of them, and there's no rule that says they can't happen all at once. This time, I am going to believe that the good things are coming to me. I feel so grateful for it all.

Opportunity Cost

I should warn you before you begin that this one is a long one. . . .

Last week, Dan and I put in an offer on a house. A house that, for all purposes, could be considered our "dream house": right in the heart of the borough, in walking distance to absolutely everything, hardwood floors, enclosed front porch, deck, three bedrooms + two bonus rooms in the basement, two baths, lots of lighting, a good dose of charm, and 2000 square feet. It was really more than we ever dreamed we could get, and thanks to some needed cosmetics and a divorce, it fell amazingly close to our price range. On the same day as my last day at my old job, we met with our Realtor, took a second look at the house, and put in an offer.

For the next 24 hours, we were on a bit of a high of nerves and excitement and anticipation. It really felt that this might be THE house. The sellers came back with a counteroffer--and let us know what their bottom line was--and though we thought it seemed doable, we decided that we'd better take a hard and fast look at the numbers before we made anything official.

I've usually kept a pretty close eye on our budget, but for the last nine months I've been using a budget spreadsheet very similar to this one to track every bit of our expenses and income so we have a real picture of where our money is going, how much we can really spend, and to keep us focused on saving. These spreadsheets have been a real eye-opener in a lot of ways, and when we sat down to look through them as we were contemplating the offer, they opened our eyes once again. As we started to take a hard look, our feelings of elation and confidence about the house slowly deflated. We realized it was a stretch--too much of a stretch. The higher-than-planned monthly payment combined with all of the work that needed to be done would have just been too much. We realized we might buy the house and then spend our time in it counting every single penny and stressing over every unanticipated expense. It was hard--because the house presented an amazing opportunity to buy our "dream house," one that we suspect might not come again--but we decided to walk away.

I know that, in the end, that was not the house for us. A house that makes us feel knots in the pit of our stomachs about finances before we've even signed a contract is not our house. Still, we feel rather deflated by the whole thing and are now wondering if we can really buy a house at all, and if we should keep moving forward or just put things on hold; whether we are better off just staying put for a while and socking away more money, or if the housing market now presents an opportunity that might not come again, and we'd be foolish to wait. So many unknowns that keep my brain (and my stomach) wrestling and twisting and turning.

Every time we look at the money, I can't help but wonder how other people do it--we are generally pretty conservative when it comes to our finances and have decent (though non-profit) salaries, and even though we live in a relatively expensive area, it's hard not to feel like a bit of a failure sometimes that we can't seem to do something as basic as buying a house. Perhaps our standards are too high (though I feel they are rather modest), or perhaps we just need to buckle down more or get second jobs, or perhaps we just don't know everyone's situation (perhaps they all got big checks from their parents to help with down payments), but it's hard sometimes not to feel that we're coming up short.

One thing I can't help wondering about, though, is at what point you just decide to take a leap of faith. When it comes to many things--and especially to money--I often find it hard to know the line between having faith that things will work out and making a wise, informed decision. We've talked to people who, when they bought their own houses, didn't do any major number crunching or even think things through too carefully, but somehow things worked themselves out and it's turned out great. Of course, there are so many others (mostly the ones you hear about in the headlines) who took that leap, and it ended in disaster. I tend to freak out about making big decisions (especially anything that feels "permanent") and to have a lot of anxiety about money, so I always have to be aware of how those feelings are coming into play. I feel confident that we made the right decision with this house (the numbers really didn't lie in that case), but going forward, I'm not really sure where to draw the line.

And, in general, home buying involves two of my biggest Achilles heels: the unknowns, and the what ifs. We can look at how much house we can afford now, but what if we have kids in the future? How will we pay for both our house payment and the outrageous costs of childcare? What happens if one of us loses a job? What happens if we need major maintenance, or the home inspector misses something big? How much can we anticipate salary increases or career advancements? There is so much that can't be known, and it makes it so hard to make a decision.

In the end, I think we are still going to at least try to keep an eye on things, and keep saving money, and hopefully when something comes along, we'll know if it's right. Despite all my number crunching, I can't tell if I'm being practical or overly cautious (or, even worse, if I'm letting fear paralyze me), if I'm being smart or if I'm being paranoid and cynical, if it really is the case that now is the right time for us or if I'm just letting what I want--rather than what I can really afford--take control of the decision making process. Right now, I have not a clue on all fronts, and all the questions and worries of missed opportunities just won't stop nagging me.

Good Thing: "Adam"

Several weeks ago, the Blockbuster down the street from me closed its doors. They were selling DVDs for $2.50, and when I popped in to see what I could find, I came across "Adam," a movie that I watched a year or so ago and loved but had completely forgotten about. It tells the story of a romance between a neurotypical woman and her neighbor with Asperger's.

When I decided to buy the movie, I wasn't really thinking at all about autism or Asperger's, but just remembering that "Adam" was a movie I enjoyed. I didn't have a clue that my work would take me back into the field of autism spectrum disorders. Knowing now that is where I am headed, I decided that was all the more reason to watch it again. And I have to say that I found it to be moving and quirky and just lovely.

"Adam" is one of those movies I think everyone should see because it helps to tell the story of a disorder that is so often misunderstood in a compelling and honest way. If you don't know much about Asperger's, or if you would like to know more, or if you'd just like to see a smart, charming romance and a Sundance favorite, then I certainly recommend that you see it!