By now every human in the world is aware of the research that exists on the number of times men think about sex in any given period of time. It is something like once a minute, and several times more than women do. There are many studies that have widely different reports. One suggests a man thinks about sex every 6 seconds, and another says they think about sex about the same number of times as they think about eating or sleeping. I suppose you could say the three most important things to a man are sex, food, and sleep. What else do they need to survive? For that matter, those are the basic things keep us all alive and prevent us from becoming extinct.
I still don't think about sex as often as my husband, but I have something that is consuming my thoughts at about the same rate: Houses. If men think about sex as often as I think about homes, it is amazing that they can hold down a job, let alone operate on a human!
It is seriously causing problems for me. Be prepared, because over the next several weeks I will probably be writing about it. It is a recurring theme in my brain, therefore I can't think about anything else until I get it out of my head.
It is causing problems with my sleep. I find myself falling asleep thinking about houses. Dreaming about houses, and constantly looking at houses, floor plans, magazines, pinterest, Houzz, etc. Talking myself in and out of them all day long.
I try to tell myself today is the day that I won't look at anything. And like the addict I am, I fall off the wagon. I tried to limit myself to just one day a week.... I can't do it. I have a problem.
And then I have a good laugh at myself.
Seven years ago a medical student and his starry-eyed wife were doing exactly the same thing. This is the season that everyone gets house-happy. We matched! We have to have a house of our own! Oh, if only I would have known then what I know now. My friends who are finishing residency this year are bustling around trying to finish home improvement projects to increase their chances of a quick sale. They are cleaning around the clock, and staying outside with the kids, storing their belongings in off-site storage, and stressing over finding a buyer at just the right time so they don't end up like us last year. That was fun.
I feel for them I do. But then I smile to myself and think of how nice it is going to be to write our 30-day notice letter and drop off the keys on our way out of town without having to worry about all that.
The difference between us seven years ago, and today are rather amusing and stark. Seven years ago we didn't have two dimes to rub together and somehow thought buying a house was a good idea. Today we actually have more than two dimes but aren't going to buy a house.
So why am I looking at houses? It's a disease, and I've got it bad.