Take me home and leave me there

It just started raining outside and it smells amazing. Musty, earthy, wet and green. There’s rumbling thunder in the distance, but judging by the clouds this afternoon we won’t get much of a storm. About half of what I could see from here is sky, and it was the most even I’ve seen it in a while; there was very little definition or body to the clouds.

I actually went grocery shopping today. This is something I generally detest doing, but I had run out of almost everything. Besides, I actually got my fridge dramas sorted once and for all this week. Only now I’m faced with too much choice. When you have a cupboard and fridge full of food the decision of what to cook becomes a bit traumatic. When all you’re faced with is some suspect looking cheese, tortillas and mango chutney, the choice is less arduous.

I have a good feeling about this week. Brenda isn’t here and the Turkey thing seems to be sorted, so I have the whole week to consolidate and try and get back under control. Last week, particularly the beginning of the week, was a bit of a free for all. I still have shit in my diary from Monday that I haven’t touched yet. Additionally, this week I have one on one meetings scheduled with everyone at work. I like these, because they turn into conversations rather than performance appraisals. And people dig being asked for their input and feedback – I’ve found they’re a lot more open to change that YOU put forward, if they know they’d be given a voice too, should they want something changed. Or something like that. Whatever it is, it all seems to be positive.

I’ve been thinking about real estate. This, for me, is odd, and even more peculiar is that it was bought on by a conversation I had with Brenda in the car on the way home from Canberra. I’m in a position where, should I knuckle down and save for a bit, I could purchase real estate. Only I’m not even sure if I want to do that. Something in me is holding back and really doesn’t like the idea. I think a lot of it is not wanting to be tied to one place. It’s really a concrete declaration, you know? Like, this is me now, see these roots I’m putting down? This is where I want to live. And I’m not sure here is my forever place.

Also, I’ve seen people financially crippled by mortgages. They want to own their own spot of the world at all costs and in doing so end up with repayments they can barely afford. I’m not willing to trade a huge amount of my quality of life for long term financial gain. Does that make me stupid? Probably, in the long term. I sure as hell could cut back on the money I spend on music, and there are other things I could go without, but when it all boils down to it I think living and enjoying each day is more important. Material possessions don’t mean that much in the grand scheme of things.

I think too that part of me expected to be doing this with someone else. It’s that whole lifelong ingrained stereotype thing – buying a house is what TWO people do, when they decide they don’t want to live with anyone else. I like the idea of doing it by myself though.

I’m in a position now where I should be thinking about it. Probably. And with that in mind I’ve actually been paying attention to For Sale signs on houses etc. in the area for the first time since I moved here. I’m going nowhere and doing nothing yet, but the thought is there. And once a thought is planted, who knows where it will go.

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