Quick re-cap if you've missed my previous house-hassle posts: we're renting now, owner has decided to sell, lots of people coming to look even though we still live here, and time on the lease is running out. All this equals "need to move."
Last week I finally got pre-approved for a mortgage. It might not seem like that big a deal to many people, but it is to me. I mean, I'm fairly new to the country and haven't had a lot of time to build credit, and I work part time. Partly because I've been in school and partly to have time to write.
Can you imagine the mental sigh of a banker when they ask "So, what's your income" and the person answers, with enthusiasm, "It's a bit complicated. Here's my pay-stub for my daytime job. Here's one from my publisher, one from Barnes and Noble, one from Apple, and four from different Amazon websites. Oooh, can I count bonuses?"
The banker I have now is really cool, though. He takes all these quirks in stride.
Anyway, I'm pre-approved now, and we've been out looking at houses all weekend. Oh my, what an interesting experience.
In my dreams, the house should look something like this:
Even besides most Florida houses looking like small shoe boxes, the house I can afford would be more along the lines of this:
Jokes aside, I had good hopes for one, but it turned out to be so water damaged fixing it up would cost at least as much as the listing price. One was really nice, but it was also sold. One was really nice but in an uber-scary neighborhood. Another was also nice, but snugly nestled up to a huge apartment complex. You get the idea...
We're going to see one more in the morning, and I'm cautiously optimistic. I'm reaching with the price, but if they're willing to go down just a little, maybe this moving thing can happen.
If it's meant to be, it will work out. If it doesn't, there's probably something wrong with the house, and I shouldn't have it anyway. Fatalism can be soothing!