A Homeowner, At Last
I’ve already written about closing day stress. Moving day turned out to be just as stressful.
Technically, my unit should not have closed – it wasn’t walk-in ready when I received the keys (after the sale had been "officially" recorded). With the exception of a few minor things, everything was supposed to be completed Thursday night (note, closing was Wednesday, but I was kind and let things slide, even though I probably shouldn’t have). Late Thursday afternoon, I let the contractors know that I’d be arriving around 10 the next morning, with movers and my belongings in tow. When I finally arrived around 11, it was apparent that the construction guys were still furiously working. Someone was attaching the door knob, another had a paint brush in hand and the unit had not been thoroughly cleaned.
I completely lost it, and everyone within earshot knew exactly how upset I was after hearing my angry conversation with my real estate agent. It had been two really stressful weeks, I hadn't had a good nights sleep in at least three weeks, and at that point, hit my head hard on the wall of rational and understanding. After some negotiations and many angry phone calls, we decided to move my stuff in and after, a cleaner would come in and the rest of the things (mainly paint patching) would be finished the following week.
One of the best things, in my opinion, about being a homeowner is owning a washing machine and dryer, that is in my unit and doesn't require quarters. About an hour into the move in process, the box labeled “linens� arrived. I ripped it open and threw in sheets. “Sweet,� I said to the young mover as I pressed start, “That is the sound of washing machine that doesn’t require quarters.� We had a good laugh. Ten minutes later, he said, “ummm, I think water is leaking out of your washing machine.� Not only was water leaking out, water had flooded the bathroom, laundry area and entry way, narrowly averting the bedroom carpet.
A hose hadn’t properly been attached, and instead of water running out through the pipes to wherever it goes, it was pouring out of the back of the washing machine, into my unit (and two floors below). The construction guys felt horrible, apologized profusely, cleaned up the mess and reattached the hose. At that moment, I appealed to karma: "I can take anything. The worst has been thrown in my direction, and if I deserve more, well, bring it on. I dare you, bring it on." And then I calmed down...and it hit me...I was finally a homeowner.
That evening, a few friends came over to celebrate my new home. Four very nice bottles of champagne were consumed: a Sofia Coppola blanc de blanc (not bad, with slight floral and wine tastes), Veuve Clicquot Brut (perfect, as only Veuve can be), Moet & Chandon (nicely tasting of toasted almonds) and a 1998 Taittinger (also tasting of toasted almonds, and at the very point where had I waited to drink, it probably would have gone bad). We drank out of plastic cups, of course. As the sun set, we went up to the rooftop deck, talking and drinking champagne, watching the sunset and enjoying the spectacular Seattle city and mountain views.
After so many years thinking that I wasn't going to ever be a homeowner, I now am one. It feels good, very good.
Pictures will be posted later. I'm using my work laptop for this and can't figure out how to reduce the file size in My Pictures or the free version of Adobe Photo Shop and I'm out of patience.
PS - Nilay, thank you for the Taittinger. I know that you wanted me to drink it for a different type of celebration, but that celebration hasn't happened yet, and I decided that becoming a homeowner was worthy of the amazing bottle.
PPS - Pete, thank you for everything. I'm looking forward to accusing you of having too much junk, making fun of your possessions and crashing at your place.