Fear & Failure

The whole first week after we moved in I couldn’t even enjoy being in our new place because I had this feeling of horror that we were going to have to give it up. I don’t know why, I did the budget over and over. I just had this feeling of sheer panic that we were going to need to immediately move out and just hope that they let us out of the lease. I didn’t want to unpack because I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to get everything out in time.

I was mentally composing the email to our friends asking them if they could come back and help us reload everything.
I know that sounds weird. I think because after 9 months of hoping for things to happen and then something going wrong each and every time I was just afraid to hope. It did not seem possible that something good could actually be happening and the details working out.

That fear combined with a little bit truckload of disappointment in myself for not meeting my goals made it hard to enjoy the change.

When I was about ten years old I decided that I would buy a house by the time I was 25. Despite everything, I still think that was a fairly reasonable goal. And all through grad school I had it in my head that I would graduate April 2013, start my new job either May or June 2013, sign a lease, start cranking away at my student loans, and begin stashing for a down payment.

Homie and I even talked about a plan to earn an extra $7,000 or so. I would move to my new job, he would move in with my grandparents, we would give up our apartment and he would stay an extra 3-4 months at his job so that we could maximize our income. If he got a new job at the same time or in that range he would accept it, but we knew we could handle being apart for 3-4 months.

Based on that plan we would sign a lease in May or June 2013, stash money away, and I figured by March 2013 start looking to buy. That way we would have time to do research, interview some real estate agents, and take a look at the areas we were considering. And then we could purchase anytime between May and September and life would be glorious.

Instead, we were apart for 4 months with a decrease in our income, I was offered a position starting in October, and Homie took a huge ass pay cut to move here with me. We then didn’t manage to sign a lease until March 2014.

And that means I failed. I will turn 26 in October of 2014 and I’m locked in a lease until March 2015. I’ve worked for 15 years to meet my goal. And even though signing a lease and having a place to live again is fantastic and awesome and I sound like a brat, there was still a big part of me mourning the fact that I failed to meet my goal.
I feel like all I’ve done is fail.


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