Wednesday, April 11, 2007

I'm at school, sitting in one of the very public study areas. It's quiet. It's almost exam time, so people are seriously working. I have just had a fucked up series of days (what else is new). Just swamped with work. W and I took an impromptu trip yesterday to look at another batch of houses. We just felt we had to, because time is now ridiculously short if we really want to buy a house before the summer. So I haven't had any time to myself at all. And I haven't been sleeping well, on top of cutting my slumber short so I can get some work done in the mornings. And finally, a friend from college -- someone I really loved for a short while, but who was just too troubled to maintain a friendship with -- died last week unexpectedly. Probably an overdose, maybe suicide.

And today, I've been running around trying to get my shit together to finish my application for the bar exam before the deadline (which is four days away now). But it's tax season, so the post office is just not useable in any way. Finally I resolved to do it tomorrow, at a time of day when people are less likely to be in the PO. And I settled down to do some work in this study area.

My phone rang after I'd been here for about three minutes. It was our realtor, telling us that the seller of a house we've been wrangling over for just under a month now has made us an offer that's within our range of acceptability. We told him to take the offer.

So now I'm sitting here. W is at home, she's been freaking out for days now. I have class in 45 minutes, and I just can't miss another one. So I have this weird dead space, sitting in this room with a bunch of strangers. I am about to lose my shit, I think. I have to keep my head about me. Tomorrow I have to start negotiating with mortgage lenders to get us a good mortgage. I have to figure out about housing insurance. We have to make an appointment with an inspector -- W has promised to handle that. We have to talk to our parents about getting a bigger gift than the one they've promised us. And we have to talk to the sellers -- these people who've been dicking us around for a month now, and are no doubt infuriated with us -- about letting us move in before the close. All this on top of starting and finishing a 30-page paper; preparing for exams; working on a habeas corpus petition for a death row inmate; doing paid work for my job; getting my bar exam application together; figuring out about consolidating my private student loans; dealing with my student loan differment; and possibly, just possibly, enjoying the fact that I'm graduating from law school.

This is a very positive thing. This is a very positive thing. I am happy. I am happy. Don't freak out, idiot.

Okay... I just emailed W a message in all caps with lots of exclamation points about how exciting this is. That got my mood up. It is incredibly good news. ... She just called, and I reminded her what good news this is. That brought both of our moods up -- we were both focusing on the scariness ahead.

HOLY CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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