We aren’t going to be homeless, after all.

After approximately two weeks of things being in limbo (and me being all frazzled as a result), it looks like we are wrapping it all up nicely.

Our house has been inspected, and today the appraiser is coming to check the joint out. That is the last thing Chuck needs to do for his mortgage (I think), which means it’s just coasting from here on out until we close. I cannot express how incredibly fortunate we are that Chuck fell into our laps just as we decided we needed to sell the house. There are bigger and nicer townhouses that have been for sale for MONTHS with no buyers. The prices keep sliding down, which is great from a buying standpoint but crappy from a selling standpoint. So yeah – it sucks about the divorce and stuff (or, not really if you consider the circumstances), but it’s GREAT that he needed to find a place to live just as we were needing someone to buy our house.

On the selling side, we are out of attorney review. The sellers agreed to the contract with the contingencies we needed, and so we have scheduled the inspection of that place for Monday. Barring any catastrophic damage, we’re full speed ahead with that, too.

Since we plan to be in this new house for a long long long long time, I am going to do my best to curtail my more flamboyant decorating impulses. If you have seen my bedroom or Jillian’s bathroom, you will know what I’m talking about (day-glo blue and sidewalk-chalk purple, respectively).

I can’t help it – I come from flamboyant people. My grandmother’s decorating style can only be described as “… whoa.” And my mom goes a little insane every now and again, too. Her bedroom was bright and scary pink for many years, and our kitchen was orange and blue for a long time, too. And this woman wouldn’t let me paint my walls black! THE NERVE. If Jillian ever gets the urge to paint her room black, I’m sure I’ll resist it, but unlike my mom, I’ll suggest we attempt to paint it plaid.

[This has nothing to do with anything, but Sesame Street is on. Bob and Rupert are wearing 50’s-style greaser wigs and dancing. It’s all quite disturbing.]

What was I saying? Oh yes – decorating. I’ve loads of creativity, but nothing that approaches what a normal person would call taste or style. Instead of having a theme to pull a room together, I’m more of an “ooh shiny!” sort of decorator. I’ll pick one thing that I like, then one more thing that I like, then something else that I think is cool, and before you know it, I have a roomful of stuff that doesn’t go with anything. I suppose my eclectic design aesthetic mirrors my personality.

Seriously. People who hire decorators and end up with tasteful yet empty-feeling homes are probably exactly like that as people. How can you live in a house with no personality? Oh wait – it’s easy if you yourself have no personality. I could never live like that, and that’s not what I’m trying to do by reining in my more crazy urges. I’m just trying to make the place look a little less nuts.

I have a feeling it’s not going to work and I’m going to end up with every wall being a different color.

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