I want a house.  I have for a few years now.  I've been able to save some money and while I enjoy my nomadic lifestyle, I enjoy it more when there is the promise of a home for me and my stuff.  Now that the Future Mr. Two and I are planning on becoming permanent room mates, I felt this was the time.

Well, this weekend, it happened.  I found the PERFECT house.  Not only was it the perfect house, it was in the perfect neighborhood, it had the perfect amenities and best of all, it was the perfect price.  I went to investigate.  I contacted the real estate agent.  The house had a garage that was originally a carriage house and could have been converted back with some blood, sweat and paint. 

I went about securing what I would need to in order to buy a home.  I didn't care about redecorating.  In my mind, I'd already moved in.  I called the real estate agent on Monday morning at 8.30am.

"Oh, we are so sorry.  We just put it under contract this morning."

I was crushed.  And still am.  Perhaps next time I won't be so fool hearty when I fall in house love.  But I doubt it.  It is just too exciting.  I'll just be the first to call.