It’s happened. Our house is sold. It’s a really big relief, like a pimple you’ve had for four years and haven’t been able to pop and then someone comes along and buys it or something.
Now that we’ve been unburdened of the house we didn’t want, it’s time to burden ourselves with a new house! THIS house, this house is going to be the best house, and not only is it going to be perfect, it’s going to change us on a molecular level. We will become capable, responsible adults, ready to tackle any and every obstacle that comes our way in a timely manner.
The KitchenAid mixer I love but have used maybe three times? I’m gonna make it rain cookies all over this land. That sewing machine I’ve owned for a decade and have never learned how to use? BAM – have a quilt you don’t want or need, family member! The books that will line the books shelves that I’ve yet to open? Get your asses ready, eyeballs! Pinterest is going to look at my house and tie cement blocks to its feet, paddle out to the middle of a lake, and then jump in. And you know what? I’ll bake a delicious casserole for Pinterest’s grieving widow or widower because I’M ALL OVER THAT SHIT.
I can’t help but also notice that all of this is happening around New Year’s. It’s a perfect perfect storm? This is no fail, right? RIGHT?
Congratulations!!!
I hope pinterest posts pictues of its suicide.
What?
It will be slightly over exposed and/or instagrammed.
There are so many laughs in that one paragraph I can’t even. Congrats on the sell – good luck with your amazeballs new abode.
Thanks, it’s going to be the mecca for got-it-togetherness.
Cookie rain, second only to donut rain and money rain on the list of awesome rains.
“When it rains – it rains money” is on our list of musts for the new house.
Congrats!
Thanks!
Hmm… I’ve got some bad news for you because this year I had that VERY same epiphany, learned to use my KitchenAid which had been standing virgin on my counter for (I kid you not) 2.5 years (that was a little embarrassing actually – hello simplest controls ever), remodeled my kitchen using power tools and stuff, grew and canned my own food, AND finally mastered the sewing machine I’d owned but never used for a decade and a half, which MEANS…. that your unwanted quilt is already in progress. Bwahahaha! Granted, if I were TRULY altered on a molecular level, you’d already have it by now. I may have experienced one of those gross mutated incomplete conversions.
l’m jealous! I currently don’t even have my own counter to put my unused mixer on so you are light years ahead of me.
No worries, you can spread out the unwanted quilt you’re getting on the floor and do all your baking prep there. Like a cooking picnic.
You are a genius.
So no fail. This may be the single best New Years post I’ve ever seen. Will you make me some casseroles, too? I need someone to make dinners for my family.
Oh, sure! Once I’m in the house, I’m sure I can ship you some casseroles.
Congats on getting rid of your albatrhouse!!! Mazel Tov.
I will be expecting my unwanted quilt any day now.
Oh, you’ll get one, and it will be so gloriously unwanted and unneeded, you won’t know what to do with it.
Actually, perfect perfect storms are bad. It’s a like a double negative so the perfects cancel each other out just leaving you with a storm. What you want is an imperfect perfect storm. Or a perfect imperfect storm but I prefer the former.
But I thought a perfect storm was bad, and then a perfect perfect storm would then be good. Grammar is hard.
Congrats on the sale of the house you never wanted!!
I wish you all the best with the new one, and if you can convince Pinterest to call it quits, then all the better.
Thank you, Vesta!
You DO IT. Or else wallow in depression because your new house is a fucking cave. I know which I chose.
Light is very important to me, I definitely don’t want a cave, it will keep me from being perfect.