Happy House Hunting Seaweed

Before I left for my happy house hunting I had been doing some research on prospective residences.  The web is an amazing resource - it's possible for a realtor to plug in the answers to a variety of house-related questions so that when a house meeting these criteria comes on the market the listing is sent to you directly.  It's fast!  It's convenient!!  It's not very accurate!!!  

Originally when I listed my preferences nothing came up.  I guess if you want a 5 bedroom house with a large, extensively landscaped lot, swimming pool, and spectacular mountain, ocean, desert, and river views for under $100K that you are moored in a vanishingly small demographic.  Eventually, SuperK and I came up with some real-world selections which resulted in some really crappy looking shack-like structures.

"Is that even a house?" she asked, peering at a murky picture on her PC.  "It looks abandoned." 

Once we threw out the places that didn't exist, were actively on fire, or located in dangerous or distant neighborhoods, we put together a game plan.  For logistical purposes I went to Vacation City by myself, armed with a small list of places to look at, ready to pull the trigger on short notice.  We were fairly sure that this was going to be the end of our marriage because I was going - by myself - to select a new place to live without my wife in the car.  It didn't make any sense to either of us before I left, while I was there, and in retrospect.  However, I was happier with this arrangement than SuperK because I was in a position to pick out something I liked and it is, as you may recall, All About Me.

 When I met with our real estate agent I was informed that a few of the homes were no longer available and that a few more were in areas that she wouldn't recommend.  I found this infuriating.  I had provided her with a list of the places I wanted to see and I would have hoped that she would have eliminated the undesirables before I drove 1000 miles by myself and began burning through money in hotels.  So I went back to my room and began to simmer in my own annoyance.  Then, the real estate agent calls back and tells me that our bestest choice is indeed available.  This pissed me off more than finding out that it wasn't available.

Damned if I do and damned if I don't.  Is it any wonder that I'm in fear so often?  I hate it when I get what I want because I didn't get more or get it faster or get something different and I hate it when I don't get what I want because it's clearly the best thing for me and I really, really want it bad.

This is why I try not to talk.