Here We Go Again

So the other night hubby says to me, “You know, I’d really like a bigger den…and maybe a garage.”

Crap.

Looks like it’s time to go house hunting.

Let me explain my reluctance in looking for a house. I’m quite content in my current apartment; the neighbors are quiet, the grounds are well kept, my rent didn’t increase when we renewed our lease, and the neighborhood has everything I need without being overly-commercial. I’ve lived in plenty of apartments, but this is the nicest one so far.

Our first home was lovely; however, after buying it, we had a string of bad luck. My husband lost his job while we were in the process of moving out of our apartment and into the house we had just closed on days before. Within a year of buying the house, both my mother-in-law and son had passed away.

Rationally I know the house didn’t kill my family members or cause my husband to be “down-sized”. I don’t believe in bad luck; it was simply a series of unfortunate events (sorry Lemony Snicket). Random chance, not karma or bad luck, is the reason for my past troubles.

My rational mind knows these things, and yet the thought of looking for a new house gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Sure, I’d like to have a bigger den, a guest room and maybe a small yard, but I’m fine where I am. Apartments have their beneficial qualities, such as not having to fix anything yourself, and the ability to move on short notice. Try doing that with a house.

But the local housing market has settled down and interest rates are still fairly low, so this is probably as good a time as any to buy a house. It doesn’t hurt to look, and since we’re happy in this apartment, we’ll be less likely to rush into a less-than-stellar home purchase.

Here’s hoping for a series of fortunate events.