A mortgage. Oh, holy.
Of course, I've been moving in this direction for a while now, figuring out this whole Adulting thing, but now that I've spoken to a mortgage broker (my good friend's uncle, and already proving to be really awesome on just a few hours' acquaintance) and received a loan application, it's all getting so real up in here that I think I need to take another #spottheduck picture for Instagram.
(I've been doing that this week.)
But honestly, I'm ready for this--a little worried, yes, that my last five years of partial employment and unemployment might affect me negatively, but otherwise confident that with my income, my debt-to-income ratio (very small) and my good credit rating, I can qualify for a loan and find a nice condo in a nice enough area. And it will be mine. Walls can be painted, shelves assembled, pictures hung with abandon. If I want teal bathroom walls (yes, please!), I can have them. I just have to work my way through the paperwork first.
Hell, I bought a car all by myself in November, and lived to tell the tale.
If I play my cards right, I can buy a home, buy some furniture for the living room, and still save money for a trip to London next year.
Bring it on.
But first...pass me a pen.