Okay, so, I’ve been talking to everyone I see in person about buying a house, everyone except for a banker, because I just don’t want to go in and waste time if I can’t afford a mortgage. And so I’m playing this fucked up game in my mind where I talk about getting a house and I dream about getting a house, but I go to the mortgage calculators online and they say that I can’t afford a house.
Never mind that every month I write a check that is a house payment. Hell, it’s probably more than the payment on this place.
And I’ve been told by the Recovering Baptist and by others that this is a stupid fear to have–that you just have to sit down and talk to someone because what the mortgage calculators say and what a lender is going to say are two different things.
I know this is probably true.
But I’m terrified. I’ve put it off on the Butcher. For reasons convoluted and obviously untrue, it’s his fault that I haven’t talked to a lender. See, he took my lips when he went to Illinois. Or something.
The Professor and I went driving around yesterday looking at houses and we ended up having lunch at that new deli in Inglewood, which was right around the corner from a couple of places I looked at. And the people were friendly and funky and the neighborhood felt cheery and established and I felt like I could imagine living there.
That made me happy and sad.
Anyway, this isn’t really getting me anywhere. But that deli… Oh holy shit. You must go and try their sandwiches. They are fantastic. Best French Dip in town.