tick tick tick tick... you know that noise that the roller coaster makes as it pulls to the top to a point where it is supposed to plummet straight down with lightening speed?  I do, I have been listening to those ticking sounds for many years now.  In the years before we sold our home ourselves; after being screwed over by a too new real-estate agent.  All that stress involved in keeping such a big home clean 24/7; updating websites and getting the word out, networking.  The fighting with local real-estate people who were never too thrilled that we were selling the house ourselves; they would steal our open house signs.  It did end but the ticking sound never did cease.  The two years we spent at a rental should have been a time to gather our thoughts but it turned into its own stressful situation.  It is hard for two DIY-ers to not DIY.  We should have at least painted, gotten rid of that purple kitchen, but it was supposed to be temporary.  So of course there was the added stress of looking for another home.  Again all the set backs proved to be beneficial now but then it was hell!  We did put in an offer on a home that if it would have worked out would have been detrimental to our success today.

The decision to move from one state to another was in of itself a crazy undertaking.  The moving trucks and the PODs and the thousand mile treks back and forth; it was very stressful!  The best was when me and the kids moved into my parents house and my husband lived with his parents.  We would partake in conjugal visits on the weekend; poor guy was beaten down.  We did that for six months before we found the home we now live in; the home that they will have to one day drag our poor old dead bodies out of.  The one my husband bought without me seeing it.  Yep, I signed all the papers and going out with the inspector was the first time that I saw it.  My Husband and the real-estate woman held their breathes and I held my composure.  I could not get past the ugly and I could not see what I do see today.  The one part of my life that is a constant is my husband; he is my rock!  I depend on him and he depends on me, we are a great team.  Rule number one is that he picks out the house and the paint colors.  He later told me that he didn't consider the house so much as the view, the pool and the location.  He knew that we could eventually make the house our own and we shall, one day.

Too bad that no good awful nasty job got in our way and added all that extra stress, (as stated in my first post).  Thinking back on that ticking noise it does stand to reason that at some point we are going to hit the peak and come crashing down however, I think I missed that plummeting feeling.  I don't recall clutching my gut and wanting to throw up at any point; it all just kind of stopped dead.  Silence ensued.

I should come full circle and say that the reason I occasionally feel depressed is when I look around and realize how much needs to be done to this little house; hence the first post about how no little girl dreams of being in this situation at the age of 50.  I started writing that somewhere between the no good awful horrible job and the dream job that pays less.  I was feeling particularly sorry for myself that day and for what it's worth, I cut and pasted that from a note I had written to myself.  The time line is off but I believe I have gotten everything posted now.

24 more days and our daughter graduates from college!