Weird things about living in my first house.
I'll wake up every morning and make my way down the stairs, finding myself doing so as quietly as humanly imaginable; as to not disturb my non-existent room occupants.
I keep thinking at any moment someone is going to storm through my front door and say: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? GTFO!"
It's difficult to comprehend that all three stories are ours, and it isn't rude to poop in the downstairs half-bath when I'm alone before work.
I finally get to purchase a fucking dinning table.
The in-law suite feels almost too large to actually be MY studio space, as it's the same square footage yas our last apartment.
Why the fuck is my driveway the bus stop @6am?
How do apple trees work?
Why are you so desperate for my attention? Why do you assume that I am obligated to acknowledge you every. single. time. we're both in our driveways? You live MUCH further away from me than my last neighbor.
If I make your rental house as pretty as I would like to, it's going to make it eventually sell faster, and then I'll be fucked.
Where tf are the fucking street lights before this neighborhood happens?
Thought: "are my upstairs neighbors dead? Wtf? I haven't heard them all day."
Is this dishwasher broken? I can't even hear it running, but everything is clean.
Why tf does this house have a working sauna in the garage? I'll probably never use this.
Wtf do you mean our power bill is only $40 I been running shit like this is my last day on earth? Oh SHIT, solar panels are FUCKING INCREDIBLE.
3,000 sqft is going to make me a CRAIGSLIST ANTIQUE GOD
EVERYONE IS OLDER AND THEY ALL LOVE HALLOWEEN. <3
