Sense and Nonsense

I gotta say, I do love me a no-nonsense woman. (Possibly because i was raised by a much-nonsense mother.) And apparently my husband Jeff loves 'em too. Recently his guide and guru has become the goddess of practicality herself, Suze Orman.
Jeff got a copy of one of her books at a thrift store. On her advice he checked his FICO. You gotta understand, for Jeff, owning a home is a big dream. He's been Jonesing for it for a while. I'm more like: "Oh, sure. A house would be nice. Can you pass me a bagel?"
Turns out Jeff's FICO is pretty good. Good enough that home ownership is no longer a distant taunting mirage floating in the clouds, but a real possibility here on the Earth.
Which is kind of scary for me. I've seen how the whole house buying process has driven rational folks crazy. And we are not rational folks.
Also frightening is that whole idea of being anchored down. Which is nuts because I'm not exactly on the verge of grabbing a hobo-stick and tramping off across the wide open spaces of this world, singing the hiking song, hitching a ride with whoever will stop. (Although I did do that twenty five years ago.)
But most terrifying is the difference that lies between "Must have house" and "Yeah, why not."
When worked into a frenzy, when the bug bites him, Jeff will even say things like, "I'll live in a tool shed!" "I'll live in a trailer!" Which hurts my feelings because, I will not live in a trailer, and he knows this. Hobo stick before mobile home.
I'm bracing myself for months of no-win situations. ( Me: "Honey, it's OK, we didn't get this house, we'll get another one." Him: "You never wanted a house to begin with!! You're denying my dream!!)
I'm perfectly happy making compromises. I'm sure it will be small. I'm sure it will be further out than I like. (But please, not Burien.) It will be fine.
OK, here's the other thing I'm dreading. The activity that give me the most joy in life is writing and producing shows. Lately, I've been feeling like that's been pushed down on the list of priorities. Like maybe, when I wasn't looking it drifted down to #2, or #2 1/2. And I fear that house hunting and all the hoops to jump through and forms to fill out and the worrying and fretting and uncertain days will push writing down the list. I wish I were one of those people who could compartmentalize. But I'm not. If I'm waiting for a phone call or wondering how we're going to get all the furniture out of the apartment or stewing in vague financial anxiety, I can't really delve into writing. Which makes me feel selfish and childish and indulgent.
I wish there was a fast forward button on life I could hit and zip through this next bit.
Oh! Or better yet, I wish the process could be accomplished in montage. Quick shot of us talking to a friendly banker. A humorous shot of us surrounded by a ridiculous mountain of paper work. Twenty super quick shots of different houses (Mansions, houseboats, teepees.) Then you'd see us pulling a "For Sale" sign out of the ground in front of our cute little bungalow. And a final image of us eating take out food by candlelight surrounded by unpacked boxes.
Deep Breath. Think about the last shot. Find the strength.