Somehow I Thought It Would Be More Complicated Than This

We have a realtor.

What a strange sentence to type... but there it is, hanging around up at the top of this page; we have a realtor.

Considering the amount of bother and thought that has gone into taking this step, it was almost... insultingly easy to do.  I contacted someone who came highly recommended, got a response, laid out our situation/desires... and now we have a realtor.  Weeeeiiiiirrrd.  He said he'll start sending us links in the morning (my heavens, I feel a bone-deep shudder of pity when I imagine how our parents did this in the ancient pre-internets days of yore), and we'll get this ball rolling.  Well, right after I go get us pre-approved for some monies (also online- thefutureisnowanditistotallyawesome).  I'm feeling a sort of steely determination about the whole thing, but also a sense of amusement at how Nathan, almost literally overnight, has suddenly become Majorly Stoked about buying a house.  He is like, way more excited than I am.  Which is not to say I'm not excited, but my excitement is tempered, I think, by the emotional attachment I've formed to my "someday I'm buying a house!" fund that's been growing (and shrinking and growing again thank you stock market) for the past twelve years or so.  Even though this money has always been earmarked for a down payment on a house, it seems almost... sacrilegious to actually do anything with it (although I did take out a bit once to pay off my car in a hurry).  I've always been better at saving money than spending it.  Emotionally, I mean.

There is also a part of me (and I'm sure this is quite common for first-time home-buyers) that keeps looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone with aviator glasses and a badge to show up and say, "Excuse me, Miss, but you are in no way adult enough to be taking this very Adult Step."  I'm trying to remember if I felt like this about getting married...  I don't think I did.  But then, I've always found the idea of sharing a mortgage with someone a much more terrifying commitment than just marrying them.

Where will the adult madness end? cries Interior Me.  What's next?  Babies??

Well, maybe.  They are less scary than mortgages...